Abracadabra
by DrTaylor
Summary: Harry embarks on a quest to finish the war and defeat Voldemort. His journey is, of course, not complete without danger, daring, and a little romance. I finally finished it. Wow.
1. A New Dream

**I don't own Harry Potter. Too bad, too, 'cause then I could say, with certainty, _I know what will happen next!_**

**But I can't.**

**When we left off, our hero was in the horns of a dilemma. Left alone in the world, without any of his former protectors, Harry is faced with the biggest challenge of his life – finding and defeating the four remaining Horcruxes and, of course, Lord Voldemort.**

_The locket, the cup, the snake, something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's, _Harry thought to himself, as he had, constantly, since the death of Albus Dumbledore. _The locket, the cup, the snake, something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's…_

He needed to sleep, but could not. Dreams didn't bother him, but he sat up all night, wondering about the locations of the objects he had to find.

In the sleeping bag on the floor next to the bed, Ron Weasley grunted in his sleep. Ron, not having to do what Harry would soon have to be doing, could sleep just fine with no problems. Harry, however, was kept awake by his own plans – or lack thereof. The truth was, he had no idea what to do after this time was over. He had slept occasionally, but he knew that remaining in Privet Drive would not be an option much longer, because he honestly couldn't stomach the concept. He had eaten there every day, spent time with Ron and Hermione, visited Mrs. Figg, and hexed Dudley (with two overage wizards living in his home, the Ministry hadn't been able to suss out who was responsible, nor did they really care once they met Dudley.)

But in truth, he was more lost than he had ever felt before. Ron's brother Bill's wedding was only a week away – Harry knew they would have to leave the Dursleys before then, because he couldn't stand it anymore. Then where would they go? Not to Godric's Hollow – he wanted to save that particular trip for after the happy times. Not the Burrow either – living in the same house as Ginny Weasley, the girl Harry would do anything to be able to be close to, would be torture for Harry right then. He didn't have any other close friends in whose homes he would feel welcome. The only other option was the house he actually owned – number twelve, Grimmauld Place – and he couldn't stand the thought of living there, where Sirius had spent his last year cooped up.

So, instead, he focused on his mission. _The locket, the cup, the snake, something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's…_

But if he let himself think about this mission for too long, he kept thinking of all the reasons behind his mission, all the deaths and torturing he had failed to prevent. Harry felt guilty about quite a few things these days. He felt guilty for the deaths of those near to him: Sirius, Dumbledore, his parents, and Cedric Diggory. He felt guilty for the danger he was putting Ron and Hermione in, and the fact that he had left Ginny behind. He even felt guilty for planning to kill a fellow human being, even if it was just Voldemort.

Intellectually, Harry knew he shouldn't feel guilty for this. None of it had been caused by him, after all. But he hadn't ended the war in time to save some of the most important people in his life, and it was beginning to get to him. Harry suspected some of his depression came from being cooped up in this house, again, knowing what he needed to do, but being unable to get started for his own protection, watching the Daily Prophets pile up with the names of new victims of Voldemort appearing every day. It was enough to make anyone insane.

All in all, this was still the best summer of his life so far. The Dursleys were all so terrified of Ron and Hermione that the house bent to their wills, and it was the last time Harry would ever have to be there. Voldemort was on his way to defeat, and Harry had plans for his future afterward.

Ron grunted again.

Harry looked over at his best friend and smiled slightly. Having Ron and Hermione here was a mixed blessing at best. He delighted in having his friends nearby and in the reactions of the Dursleys to their presence, but he also feared that they would be mistreated by his "family," or that keeping them close to him would put them in greater danger than they already were.

He had to stop thinking about this. It would only bring nightmares…and Harry was sick of the nightmares. Sometimes he thought that he would rather die than have another one. Then he felt guilty for that, because his nightmares had occasionally proven useful.

As exhaustion overcame him, he drifted off to sleep….

_Severus, please…_ echoed the voice of Albus Dumbledore. And then a blast of green light, and the graceful arc Dumbledore's body had made as it fell from the tower… _Severus, please…_ again, the scene of Dumbledore's death played in Harry's brain. He lay still, forced to watch, over and over… until finally, he knew it by heart, the sound of Snape crying, "Avada Kedavra!" and the way Dumbledore had stared into Snape's cold, hate-filled eyes…

Suddenly, the dream shifted. Dumbledore froze in place, but Snape turned to Harry, and though he was on the Astronomy tower, he was also in his dungeon, lecturing about techniques involved in Occlumency. "Eye contact is often essential in Legilimency," he told Harry. Dumbledore began moving again, and the scene continued.

And Harry suddenly understood. As he understood, he saw _it¸_ something between the two combatants, almost like a visual echo, a line of light between Snape and Dumbledore.

He awoke with a start. He could only think of one reason why he would see what he had just seen, but it was absolutely bizarre. Could it be true? Did Snape act on his own, or by a command from Dumbledore? For the first time, Harry examined his memory of Snape that night, looking for a hint of Snape's motive, forcing himself to consider Snape's look of hatred in light of his own emotions, remembering how it had felt to tip the potion down Dumbledore's throat, asking himself how he would feel if asked to kill Dumbledore… and realized he was at a loss.

The evidence supported either conclusion, but Harry knew that he was missing something about that night. And he decided, then and there, that the place to begin looking was not Voldemort's old haunts or the records Dumbledore had left behind, but with Severus Snape and the events surrounding Dumbledore's death.


	2. Goodbye to You

**This? Not mine. Sorry to bust your bubble.**

The next morning was as dull as every morning had been since Voldemort went public. The sky was clear, but the day was cool and a bit of fog was clear on the ground. Harry went downstairs when he heard his aunt and uncle wake up. He followed the sound of their voices downstairs, and paused outside the door – he had reached the decision the night before.

He was leaving.

Ron and Hermione would, of course, be going with him. He didn't know where to, but he knew he could not remain here, in this nonhome, another night. He had stayed here for more than the amount of time he had over the last summer – according to what Dumbledore had told him, he was protected from Voldemort until his birthday. His time in this place had served its purpose.

And now it was over.

He opened the kitchen door. The familiar sight of his aunt and uncle greeted him. _I wonder if I'll ever miss them._ "Aunt Petunia? Uncle Vernon? Can we talk for a moment?"

Vernon Dursley turned his beady eyes on Harry and scowled. "I suppose your…_friends_ will hex me if I say no? Get on with it, boy!" Vernon was fairly distraught because Harry had hexed Dudley in front of him a week or so ago. Harry had decided on a Jelly-Legs Curse long ago. Dudley, who was a little on the dim-witted side, had thought it was another Dementor attack. The screaming had been well worth it, especially since Uncle Vernon had avoided Harry like the plague whenever possible ever since.

As painful as this conversation would be, it had to be done. "I wanted to thank you," Harry said, "for taking me in. I know that by doing it, you saved my life. If you had sent me to an orphanage, I would have been killed long ago. I owe you for that.

"So, I wanted to thank you before I leave for good. The protection my mum left in my blood won't last much longer, and I have things to do. I'm grateful to you for saving my life, and I'm sorry to have been an inconvenience."

Harry turned to leave, but…

"Harry," Aunt Petunia said, "there is something you should know." Harry was shocked. Aunt Petunia was speaking as though she liked him. "Your mother and I were not exactly the Muggles you always thought we were. Our parents were both Squibs. I think, deep down, they preferred her because she was everything they had failed to become – she was a very powerful witch, you know. They were killed years ago, before Lily got married, in a car crash – as I told you your parents were killed – and since I was your mother's closest living relative, I got you. But that…Dumbledore…was your great-uncle. I think it's time you saw the note he left me with you. She walked to a cupboard and pulled out an envelope. Turning to Harry, she said, "Good luck," and then touched his face briefly. Then she returned to the now-burning breakfast on the stove, and Harry knew he would never see any affection from her again. With a last, silent, goodbye, he left the kitchen.

_Petunia,_

_As sorry as I am to resort to these methods, I cannot allow this issue to proceed through the proper legal channels. This is your nephew, Harry. He was born to your sister and her husband on July 31 of last year, a month or so after your own son. I know that what I ask will be difficult for you, but your sister and her husband died last night at the hands of Lord Voldemort, and you must care for Harry now._

_Your sister sacrificed herself for her son and left a certain protection in his blood. Only your blood, as your sister's only competent relative, can save him now. While my brother and I are also relatives, my own connection is too weak to keep him hidden and my brother would be incapable of caring for a child. You are not. As the last close relative, I know that only you can protect Harry until he comes of age. I only hope that, given your tenuous relationship with your sister, you can find it in your heart to treat Harry as your own._

_I hope that you will tell him everything in due course. You may contact me through Muggle post on the address on the front of this envelope if you need to ask me anything. _

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Harry sat on his bed, in shock. He had a living relative other than his aunt?

Ron was sitting up now, looking groggy. "Wazzzamadder, 'Arry?" he yawned.

Harry blinked at Ron, trying to decide what to tell him. _Dumbledore wanted me to confide in Ron and Hermione, _he remembered.

"A letter from Dumbledore to my aunt. I guess he left it when he left me here," he replied listlessly, handing the parchment to Ron. "She must have found it when she found me on the doorstep. I went downstairs to tell them goodbye, and she just…_handed_ it to me."

Ron read the letter, and then looked at Harry in shock. "You have another relative? He didn't have to leave you here?" Ron asked in a wondering manner. "Someplace else in the world you could have gone and he left you here? But…why?"

"Well," Harry responded, "we heard him mention a brother before. Something about improper charms on a goat and not knowing how to read?"

"Oh." Ron frowned. "That could be bad, I guess."

Harry nodded vigorously.

Hermione chose this moment to pound on the bedroom door (Dudley was still asleep but Hermione and Ron had spent a great deal of time finding ways to torture him, such as making as much noise as possible in the hallway.) Harry was glad to have her there – he had been waiting for her to arrive to tell them about his dream. Ron spoke first however, as soon as she walked into the room.

"Hermione, guess what! Harry's got another loony relative! I guess we don't have to be here after all!" he told her.

Hermione reached for the letter, almost dropping it when she pulled away from the slight contact with Ron's hand. She scanned it, but all she could say was, "Wow."

"I know," said Harry, "but I actually have something more important to tell you. I dreamed about the Astronomy Tower last night."

Ron and Hermione frowned. Hermione had often been known to wonder, in their daily meetings about their plans, why Harry had not dreamed about this particular topic yet. Ron, like Harry, had just been glad Harry had been spared so far (especially since they shared a room).

Harry continued carefully. "There was some kind of connection, in my dream, between Snape and Dumbledore. And then I remembered what Snape said to me about eye contact in Legilimency…we need to find Snape, and we I need to learn Legilimency so we can question him properly.

Hermione looked at Harry appraisingly. "Do you think Dumbledore told Snape to kill him?"

Harry sighed, putting his head in his hands. "He begged for something. I remember him asking for Snape when we arrived in Hogsmeade that night, and now I wonder why. Did he have a reason to die? We don't know what the potion he drank was, but I remember at one point; he started shouting for someone to kill him."

"It could be that he was hoping for an antidote from Snape. Or maybe that was what he wanted from Snape all along, to have Snape kill him. This is too many ors. We need to do some good solid research. I'm sorry, but we need the Hogwarts library," Hermione told them.

"Okay, so that's our next stop. Hogwarts, or maybe Hogsmeade," Harry replied. He decided to tell them. "I want to leave today. This is exactly the number of days I spent last summer, and that should leave me pretty well protected until I'm seventeen. I'm just so sick of living here, and since I don't have to anymore…we're going."

"Can we do something nasty to the Muggles first?" Ron asked.

"Let's pack!" cried Hermione.

Harry grinned. He was glad to be going.


	3. Hogwarts

**I swear I'm not stealing. I'm just borrowing. Without asking permission.**

**Hey, Jo, can I borrow your characters? Just to play with so I don't go nuts trying to guess what happens next?**

Having showered and packed, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved downstairs before lunch. The Dursleys were in the living room. Harry considered for a moment, then decided not to say goodbye again. Ron moved over by the stairs for a moment, and Harry opened the door. He could have sworn he heard Ron mutter something. Sadly, at this point, Dudley swaggered into the room.

"Leaving, are you?" he asked, "Why'd you wait so long?"

Harry slowly turned to Dudley. "Dud, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time." And he punched Dudley in the nose, grabbed his trunk, and walked out of Privet Drive forever, Ron and Hermione following him. Dudley's howls could be heard from inside the house. Harry walked to the curb and held out his right hand. The Knight Bus appeared. Ron groaned.

"Hogwarts, please," he told the conductor. They loaded their bags and were off to the school.

An hour later, the bus stopped at the gate of Hogwarts. Ron looked slightly sick. They walked up the path to the school and arrived at the front doors.

They were locked.

Hermione sighed. "I suppose we could wander down to Hagrid's? We haven't seen him since…the funeral. He said he'd stay here no matter what."

They could hear Fang, the dog, barking as they approached the hut. Ron knocked and they could hear Hagrid cursing inside, and the sounds of him stumbling toward the door.

"Wuzzit?" Hagrid called blearily through the door. "Wazzamadder? Yeh need me? I'll beare righ' quick."

The door opened. "Ron? 'Arry? Herminny?" Hagrid blinked drunkenly. A few empty wine barrels were scattered around the hut.

"Erm…Sorry to bug you, Hagrid, but we couldn't get into the school."

"Of cours' nah, 'Arry, M'Gonagall kips it locked," Hagrid replied. "I'll let you in, I know th' passwor'." He set off across the grass.

As they returned to the castle, however, Harry was startled to see Minerva McGonagall, the new headmistress of Hogwarts, running across the grass. "Potter!" she yelled, "Weasley! Granger! Get inside, quickly! I need to talk to you, and I'm very busy at the moment. Hagrid, get up to the school, please, the meeting's about to start. Potter, I'll meet the three of you in Gryffindor Tower. The password is unchanged."

They walked up to the Tower silently and entered the Common Room. Harry scowled. "I _really_ didn't plan on coming back here," he muttered. It was hard to be here, where he had so many happy memories from the only real home he had ever known. He desperately wanted to return to Hogwarts, but he knew he could not: he needed to be out in the world, looking for Horcruxes, and he wouldn't be able to get the information he needed in order to do that here. He wouldn't be able to leave the school easily if he stayed here longer. He turned to Ron. "What do you suppose is up with Hagrid?"

Ron shrugged. "He's probably upset about Dumbledore. I mean, it always seemed almost like Dumbledore was his father. He's just upset."

Hermione looked like she was going to cry. Ron put an arm around her. "We should go see him soon," she sniffed.

They sat there for what seemed like hours. Finally, Harry began to get up and pace. He paced for a while and then flung himself back down on his chair.

The portrait hole reopened, and McGonagall returned. She took a chair next to Hermione and asked, "How have you been?"

Harry decided on total honesty – up to a point. "Lousy. We need the library; I have some doubts about what I saw on the Tower; Dumbledore, once again, didn't tell me the whole story about something that directly impacts my life; I officially have nowhere to live; and I can't return to school next year because of…because I can't," Harry finished dully.

McGonagall sighed. "I will give you access to the library. Tell me why you doubt what you saw on the Tower and I swear we'll get to the bottom of it eventually. You can live here for the rest of the summer, and the school will reopen next year with a much – altered program of studies. If you have to leave, I will accept that, but…I need you here, Harry."

Harry was floored. "Why?"

"Because instead of classes and assignments, we're going to have a more individualized approach. If you want to learn something here, and it's not Dark Magic, we'll find a way to teach it. There will be no real classes. It's more work, but we're going to have to get the students trained in the best way possible. Only a quarter of the students are returning this year, and we're going to use the decreased population to have each of them teaching each other, individually. We want to have a faculty member supervising each of their subjects, but we have a very noticeable vacancy in the staff."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Quite right. We thought having you here would allow the students to have their own leader for the coming battles. Basically, we want you to reform the D.A. as a training ground for the Order of the Phoenix, and to help the students who don't want to join you with their Defense anyway."

Harry blinked. "You want me to _WHAT?_"

McGonagall sighed. "The D.A, Potter! You are a leader to the students! You can prepare them for the coming war better than anyone else can! There are not going to be any more O.W.Ls or N.E.W.Ts until the war is over, it was decided yesterday, because they can't count on an unbiased testing environment. The school will be new and improved, and we will be running the Order straight out of the school. We are opening membership to all students over seventeen – which will soon include you. I am prepared to offer you, Weasley, and Granger membership in the Order as soon as you turn seventeen, Potter. I know you can't reveal your mission, but you can be a help to us, and we can help you. Please, let us help you."

It was the please that threw Harry. He smiled. He felt like laughing. "You're offering me the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, aren't you, Professor? This new method of running the school you're talking about…with all of us running around teaching each other skills…do you realize what a disaster this could be?"

"Yes," replied the headmistress. "But I believe it to be the right thing to do. We need less predictability in school as the world outside it becomes less predictable. Continuing as normal is pointless: there will be no Ministry-improved tests to study for. You will all be teaching each other. We aren't really offering you a teaching job, but we can't find anyone who's willing to take it, and if you're here working with the students, it should appease many of the people who are worried that their children will not be trained in Defense."

"Harry…" whispered Hermione. It was the first thing she had said since McGonagall had started talking. Harry looked over at Ron, who merely shrugged. He turned back to McGonagall.

"Will you give us a minute, Professor?" McGonagall nodded and headed to the portrait. "I'll be back later." She disappeared.

Harry looked at the other two. They looked as shocked as he felt.


	4. Decisions

**I have decided that I do not want to wait for the new Harry Potter story, so I am, purely for my own entertainment (and, possibly, yours) writing my own version. It does not belong to me and no copyright infringement is intended.**

"I knew she was kissing up to us," said Ron, "but that was bloody ridiculous!"

Hermione scowled. Apparently teachers never "kissed up."

Harry stayed silent, content to let Ron and Hermione argue it out for a while.

"We cannot be teachers!" Ron shouted. "She's gone completely mental! We're not ready for this! It's not just fighting You-Know-Who; it's something we're just not ready for!"

"So, basically," Hermione said, "what you're saying is that you'd rather fight Voldemort – oh, for crying out loud, Ron, don't whimper! – than help teach a bunch of kids to defend themselves against him."

"Yes! You understand perfectly! I knew I could count on you, Hermione."

"I think that it's a good idea to change the curriculum of the school if the Ministry isn't going to be able to conduct the testing anymore," pointed out Hermione, "but I'm not sure we ought to be a part of it. Of course, everyone will probably say that at first, before they get used to the idea. But I think it might be a good idea to stay here temporarily until we have a better idea where to look for the next Horcrux. We can use the library to plan our next move, and since we have no idea how to destroy them once we find them, some research wouldn't hurt us at this point. And don't forget that once Harry's had his birthday, we can all come and go as we please, and the teachers won't really be able to say anything about it."

Harry decided right then that if Ron and Hermione ever agreed on anything from the start, he could be absolutely certain that it was a bad idea.

Predictably, Ron was still arguing against remaining in school. "We have a mission! McGonagall wants us here under her thumb, so we won't get in the Order's way while we carry it out, that's why she asked in the first place!"

Hermione jumped in at this point. Apparently teachers were never guilty of this kind of manipulation either. "Does not!"

"Does too!"

Harry decided to intervene before they continued on this vein all day. "Don't forget, he said, we do need the school right now. It might not hurt to stick around and see what's up until term starts. We can always take off if we have to."

Ron and Hermione stopped arguing.

"Hermione needs the library if she's gonna solve any part of the mystery of what was in that potion, unless, of course, either of you have a better idea of where we can do that kind of research." He waited, but neither of them responded. "Ron, I swear I won't let McGonagall use us in that way. We will be able to come and go as we please, and if our staying here doesn't work out we can go. And I think we need to acknowledge the possibility that in the future we may need to tell some other people – the ones we know we can trust. Not the Order, but some of our friends. Dumbledore was specific about who he wanted to know about this mission, but we'll need them before the end, I have a feeling. And we'll need the information the Order has about Voldemort and his followers to finish the job."

Harry rose, and paced around the Common Room, running his fingers through his hair.

"I realized while she was talking that, aside from killing Voldemort, I'm rather useless to all this. I don't have the skills to do this really at all. I'm terrible at research, I don't think I'll be able to come up with any kind of battle plan. I'm going to need you both, and I'm not going to be able to spend all my time on this project because I honestly don't have much to contribute right now. I will need to keep my skills sharp, I'll need to keep moving, and for that, I'll need people to practice dueling with, somewhere to look up spells, and a good place to practice, all of which I would have here. If I don't do something with my time while I'm waiting to make a move against Voldemort, I'm gonna burn out before we reach the end, and I don't want that. I want to finish this. And to finish it properly, we're going to need to know what the Order knows. I suppose we might be able to get that from someone else, but I'd rather not try unless we have to. We just need to make sure we have an exit strategy before we join up."

Ron was scowling, Hermione smiling. _Excellent, _thought Harry, _they still don't agree._

"Well," Ron said at last, "I wouldn't mind staying for a while. But I still think that we should have the option to leave at any time, and that McGonagall shouldn't necessarily know that we might not stay. There must have been a reason Dumbledore didn't want her to know about the Horcruxes."

"Yes," said Hermione, "I would like to stay too, but I don't think we need to worry about McGonagall. And how do we know she doesn't know, anyway? We'll leave if we have to, but I don't think the Order will give us any problems, and Harry's right. Their resources will be very helpful."

"Okay," Harry decided. "I know you don't like the change in plans, Ron, but right now it's the best we have, and the Order really can help. In the meantime, I want to know what you guys think about telling a few of our friends about the mission."

They set about deciding who they should invite into their secret, if and when it became necessary. There were really only three names of their fellow students put forward, and in the end, they decided that any one of them would be acceptable, although they wanted to wait until it was necessary. Ron wanted to tell his parents, and Hermione wanted to tell McGonagall, but Harry wanted to wait until he needed someone before he could tell them what he was doing. Harry felt that, as the one entrusted with the mission after Dumbledore's death, he was doing the best thing he could by deciding who to turn to for help now rather than later. He knew, somehow, that he would need some help before it was all over.

In the end, they decided to keep Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, and Neville Longbottom as options for whom to tell about their mission. These were the three people who had gone to the Ministry with them in their fifth year, the three who had showed up when Hermione used the contact Galleons to round up the D.A. when it was needed a few weeks before. Harry felt that Luna had a knack for finding the solutions that no one else would believe, and that she might provide some much-needed random theorizing as well as the fact that she was loyal to the cause. Neville was the one that Harry was adamant about, because of his connection to the prophecy – the other potential Chosen One – and Harry felt that Neville had suffered enough to earn a place in the mission to kill Voldemort. Just because Voldemort had gone after Harry first was no reason to leave Neville out of it.

Ginny was the final arguing point. Harry wanted her nowhere near the danger, but he had to admit that she was exceptionally powerful for her age, loyal, and had her own score to settle with Voldemort. Harry also felt, deep down, that he would need her, although he said nothing of this to Ron or Hermione. She was a steadying influence on him, and he felt that he would need that in the coming months even if they couldn't be together. Ron grumpily relented in the end, and Harry, although he had his doubts; felt that he should do the same. Now he felt horribly guilty for considering including her in their plans instead of guilty for leaving her behind.


	5. Amateur Psychology

**This is mine!**

**Oh wait, no, it really isn't. The whole Harry Potter universe belongs to JKR, and the chapter title I may have stolen from a Star Trek book by the illustrious Peter David. Oopsie.**

**Please enjoy it anyway.**

Professor McGonagall returned three hours later with Hagrid in tow. "How are you doing?" she asked them. "We were hoping to talk to you. I want to tell you a little more about my offer."

Hermione glanced at Harry, and then said, "We just can't be anywhere else right now. Hogwarts is the only place we know of that has the books I need to read to help us complete our mission."

"And that is?"

"Ours," Harry said, "to share when we choose to. The time may come when I need to tell you everything, but the fewer people who know, the better it is. If Voldemort ever found out what we were doing, it would be disaster. Actually, don't even tell anyone I said that…he might guess." Harry sighed, thinking of the danger anyone who guessed what they were doing would be in.

McGonagall smiled. "I understand completely, Potter. Do you three want to join the Order?"

Harry was floored. He understood that he might be able to work out an invitation to join when he turned seventeen, and that Ron and Hermione might be able to join now. But an offer for him to join now was completely unexpected. "I can't!" he told her. "I'm not seventeen yet!"

McGonagall merely shrugged. Harry was struck by how tired she looked. "I know you aren't, but you will be in a matter of weeks. You have proved many times that events will not leave you alone. You are central, for some reason, to this fight, and you have no relatives who would object to your joining the Order…no fit guardians…." She frowned then, as if trying to rid herself of an unpleasant thought. "Harry…I did try to stop Dumbledore from leaving you with those…_people_." She spat the word out.

Harry sighed. "He had a good reason. My mother died to save me. Living with her sister made me impossible for anyone associated with Voldemort to find. It was the best protection he had for me. Sleeping in a cupboard may not have been particularly comfortable, but it got the job done."

"And who else would I have had so much fun with this summer?" Ron asked.

McGonagall and Hermione suddenly looked stern. "Ron," Hermione asked timidly, "what did you do to them?"

"I…erm…put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the door to the cupboard Harry used to sleep in." Ron said matter-of-factly. "Now it'll never open again."

Hermione looked like she was holding back a laugh. McGonagall, however, gave Ron a fleeting smile before she continued. "Do you three want to join the Order? We just had a meeting, there was a vote. You're all in if you want to be. This is the new headquarters, since Grimmauld Place has been rendered unavailable to us, so you'd have to spend some time here, even if you weren't living here full time. But you could be privy to everything we know about what's going on with Voldemort, and we think it's quite a lot."

Hagrid spoke for the first time. "Pleas,' Harry," he said, "We need you."

Harry realized then that this was one of the times when he would have to make a decision for Ron and Hermione. In the end, once again, it came down to him.

He looked at McGonagall. "We'll try it."

Living at Hogwarts as an active part of the Order was one of the best things that had ever happened in Harry's life. The next day, they were taken to their first meeting. Apparently, the Order met at three o'clock every day in a small room on the seventh floor, which was available to the Floo network (although the members all had small portkeys that they could put in a pocket, shaped like a small metal bird). The other members of the Order talked about their various projects, and Hermione took several rolls of parchment notes which were magically concealed as notes on the Goblin Rebellions (Ron swore to her that no one would ever want to read them, although she had her doubts). Tonks and Kingsley were working on recruiting members from the Ministry (an activity that was no longer forbidden). Tonks was also doing some spying in pubs frequented by Death Eaters, since she could change her appearance at will. Most of the other members of the Order were involved in various spying missions, keeping track of known or suspected Death Eaters. Whenever a new Death Eater was identified, Kingsley would tell the Auror office he had received an anonymous tip and the person would be thoroughly investigated by the Ministry, and then arrested.

After all the other members had reported, McGonagall turned to Harry. "Potter, what can you tell us?"

Harry had decided what he could and could not say the night before. "Before Dumbledore's death, he told me the specific way to defeat Voldemort. He told it to me because Voldemort believes I am a threat to him, and will never stop hunting me until one of us is dead. He told me I could tell Ron and Hermione for some reason. And now that Dumbledore is dead, we are the only ones who know about this weakness of Voldemort's.

"So our plan is to exploit it. We don't want to tell you what it is. Apart from Dumbledore's instructions, we know what would happen if this information ever got out. As far as I know, Voldemort doesn't know that we know. Our only chance is to catch him off guard. We may ask you questions about Voldemort or the places he goes that sound a little strange. But our goal is to defeat Voldemort, and I move that the Order prepare to attack Voldemort as soon as we're done. If we attack before that point, Voldemort cannot be killed.

"There is one other thing. I had a dream a few nights ago. In it, I recalled the scene of Dumbledore's death and I saw a kind of connection between Dumbledore and Snape – I wondered if any of you have experience identifying the signature of Occlumency or Legilimency? I was hoping to find out if it's possible that Snape got some kind of message from Dumbledore before he…" Harry trailed off.

The other members looked shocked. Then Tonks said, "But, Harry, it can't be. Why would Dumbledore order what you're implying he ordered?"

"He was weakened that night," Harry said. "We were working on the mission he charged me with, and he was weakened. He kept asking for Snape after we got back to Hogsmeade, and then when we heard about the Dark Mark we just rushed right over here and he stopped talking about it, but of course, we did find Snape that night. It just…made me wonder if I was missing something."

No one had any answers for him.

After the meeting, Harry cornered Remus Lupin. "Professor?"

Lupin smiled. "It's okay, Harry. You can call me Remus."

Harry smiled. "Remus, I need a favor."

"What do you need?"

"I need to know how to get to my parents' home in Godric's Hollow, and I need to know how to find their graves."

"When did you want to go there? And why?"

"I just feel like I have to. Will you tell me how to get there?"

Remus sighed. "No. But I'll take you there myself. When did you want to go?"

Harry was relieved. He had wondered if Lupin would say no. "After the wedding."

Life continued on like this for the rest of the week. They would eat breakfast; look up potions to find out what Dumbledore might have drunk and spells that might help them later on for the morning, eat lunch, take a break, go to the Order meeting, and then study until dinner. After dinner, they would spend some time chatting with whatever Order members happened to be around – Remus and Tonks, who seemed almost obscenely happy together, Ron's parents (The night his mother had found them in an Order meeting had not been enjoyable.), Fred and George Weasley (also newly inducted), and, occasionally, Hagrid. Hagrid was moody, and usually did not stick around long. Harry made a mental note to spend some time with Hagrid after the wedding.

Bill Weasley was getting married that weekend, and they were going to go to Ottery St. Catchpole for the occasion, which was to be held in the Weasley garden. Harry was nervous about the idea of attending the wedding, mostly because he was afraid to see Ginny again. His plan was to try to pump the brains of everyone there that he trusted about the mission he was soon to embark on without drawing attention to himself while avoiding Ginny as much as possible. He had managed to spend the last three weeks not thinking about her as much as he was capable of, because every time he did he felt worse. More guilt was not what Harry needed right then.

But the day before they were to leave for the Burrow, Hermione cornered Harry in the common room after Ron had gone up to bed. "Harry," she asked him, "what, _exactly _is going on between you and Ginny? You told us you two broke up, but you never said why, and she is going to be living in the house we're going to stay in, so I just want to know exactly what to expect."

"Well," Harry said, "she said she understood why I had to do it. Ron talked to her, and since he didn't hit me afterward, I think she's probably doing okay. I know that it hurt her, and she probably cried-" Harry hated the thought of making Ginny cry. He ran his hands over his face, and then continued. "I doubt she's cursing my name. She understood why I had to break it off."

"And that was?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Harry thought it would be obvious. "It's dangerous."

"Harry, Ron and I are in danger! Do you care about that?"

"I just don't want her to be any more of a target than she already is. I won't take that risk."

"We're targets too. You should be shedding all of us if that's the case you're trying to make."

"Well, first of all, when I broke up with her, that was kind of the plan. I was going to go look for Horcruxes and you and Ron were going to stay in school. Remember? But you're the ones who decided to come along."

"So," Hermione responded calmly, "let me get this straight. You're going to let Ginny suffer alone because _you're _afraid she might die if Voldemort finds out you love her. Your best friends, who you also care about, are coming along with you, and that's okay?"

Harry said nothing, but inside he was a combination of things. Angry had its place, as did annoyance. He was frustrated, and he was afraid. But, more than anything, this conversation was making him miss Ginny, which he had avoided doing all week by not thinking about her.

Finally, one of them had to say something. "It's too much of a risk to her."

"Harry," Hermione responded, "it's her risk."

"Don't think I haven't thought about this, Hermione! For ages, it was all I could think about. But, the most important thing to me is that she's alive. I don't care if she's cursing my name; I just want her to be alive. And it's just different with you and Ron. We've been through so much together, and you started it all when you got under that cloak in first year. Ginny's never done that."

"So, just because she happens to be a year younger, she doesn't deserve to come along? You know she would have been with us if she'd been there. Or even know that you might be back for her someday?"

"Of course I can't tell her that! What if I don't come back?"

Harry and Hermione both froze. Neither of them had mentioned the idea that Harry might die on this mission, or really thought about the idea that Ron or Hermione could die too.

"I won't leave her alone, Hermione. I can't. If we're together, and I die….I won't do that."

"Harry, do you think you deserve love?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"I was just curious. You don't remember the love of your parents. You were never loved by the Dursleys. You lost Sirius before he had the chance to do much for you. All the love you've known in the world has been taken from you except for me and Ron and his family, and the first chance you have to know real, true, romantic love, you break up with Ginny. And you may have had a good reason, but that doesn't make it quite right, because she wants to take this risk for you, and you've obviously considered that this could be the end of your life, in which case one would think you'd want to be with someone you love. So I'm asking if you feel you deserve her love."


	6. Return of the Broom Shed

**I have decided that I cannot wait for J. K. Rowling to finish her book so I have decided to hijack her characters and (purely for my own entertainment) make up my own version of how the events should unfold.**

**Also the chapter title is stolen from both J.R.R. Tolkien and also I may have been thinking more about a Veronica Mars episode title. You may now curse my fanaticness.**

**But read it anyway.**

**A/N: This chapter contains what I believe (but am not certain) are major spoilers about one of the mysteries left over from book six. If you are an anti-spoiler type, the solution is to to let this story go and never look back.**

**You will be able to live with yourself.**

The Burrow was completely decked out for the upcoming wedding. Harry felt like he had walked into a gauze factory. The couch and all the chairs in the living room were covered in bows and hangings and other girly things that Harry didn't really care about. It seemed like about twelve Molly Weasleys were running around shouting orders at whoever happened to be standing nearby. The (freshly de-gnomed) garden was filled with chairs and the kitchen was full of food with preservation charms put on it.

Fleur was also in her element. The house bent to the bride-to-be's whims, apparently simply because she was the one getting married. She was constantly running between getting fitted for her dress, opening gifts, reviewing decisions Molly had made about decorations or food, and receiving firecalls responding to the invitations that had been sent out.

The men and Ginny mostly tried to stay out of Molly and Fleur's ways. Mr. Weasley told Harry and Ron that nothing they did would be judged competent by his wife, and she would just end up doing it herself anyway, so they might as well lower her stress by not making her yell at them. Charlie was trying to plan a bachelor party for his brother without the twins' help (much to their annoyance) and was therefore "busy" enough to satisfy his mother.

The wedding would be in two days in the back garden. Harry and Ron spent much of the first day in Ron's room, avoiding everyone, until it was time for the bachelor party. They set off for the local pub, Harry wondering vaguely if it would be like the bachelor parties you heard about in the Muggle world or if it would be some unique wizard tradition.

The party took place in a Muggle pub, so it couldn't be too obvious that they were using magic. There was drinking (Harry was glad Hermione had not been allowed to come along), stories that seemed to make Bill blush more and more furiously every time they were told, and a dancing girl that seemed to dye Ron's ears permanently red.

The next morning, they all got up bright and early. Ron had to be fitted for his groomsman's robes, and Harry and Hermione couldn't sleep through all the yelling and running around. They went outside (avoiding the chairs that had been set up) and watched the commotion from inside the Burrow as Fred and George apparated around the house, transfiguring everything that Mrs. Weasley had decided was essential to the wedding into Muggle artifacts of dubious importance to any festive occasion. Hermione seemed antsy.

"I'm sorry if I was out of line the other night, Harry," she told him. "I just think that you and Ginny should be together. I know you love her, and I think she loves you. Why won't you just let it be?"

"Fine," Harry told her. "I'll tell Ginny how I feel about her if you tell Ron how you feel about him." He felt some vindictive pleasure about the blush that was creeping up Hermione's cheeks at this statement. "Not as easy as it looks, is it?"

"I just don't understand why you can't just apologize and move on. You should have some happiness, Harry."

"Remember what I said, Hermione? What if I don't come back? What if _you_ don't come back? Or Ron? I can stand the idea of me dying. I've been living with that for years. I can even stand the idea of the people who have been with me through it all dying, because I know that you'd never let me go alone and it's your choice. But Ginny…I couldn't take that. If she feels the way I do, she won't have a choice. Voldemort wouldn't even have to try to kill me if she died – there wouldn't be anything left for him to kill. I need her alive."

"I know this is like beating a dead horse, Harry, but she's hurting. You should at least tell her all of this."

"She doesn't need that burden."

"You never told her about the prophecy, did you?"

Harry was now feeling genuinely insulted. "Of course not." His voice took a distinctly sarcastic turn. "I can just see that now: 'By the way, Ginny, even though we just got together and I mistakenly ignored your existence for years, you should know that I'm fated to kill the most evil wizard in the world before he does me in, hope that doesn't make you have second thoughts about this.'"

"I swear, Harry, you're worse than Ron is! She knows something's up, it's obvious. She's aware the prophecy exists, remember? Just tell her, you'll both feel better and I can stop hounding you about it." Hermione stomped off toward the burrow, which was nearly shaking with the sound of Mrs. Weasley's yelling as she berated the twins for turning Fleur's tiara into a rubber duck.

Harry didn't know what to do about Ginny, but Hermione gave him the rest of the day to think about it. Privately, Harry thought Hermione was starting to act a little oddly, but he pushed the thought aside. Hermione was Hermione, and she was always right. When the rare occasion occurred when she wasn't right, it only occurred because she was missing a key piece of evidence that she could never have obtained on her own that made her not right. This meant, since Ginny confided in her, and she was therefore not missing any key pieces of evidence, and Hermione was always right, that Harry needed to have a conversation with Ginny.

He didn't know how he was going to do that; however, with Ginny now ignoring him (although, to be fair, he knew that she was justified since he ignored her first). With all the activity that had been going on in the house, no one had really noticed that they weren't speaking, and Harry was not planning to stay at the Burrow much past the wedding. Still, he privately admitted that he was not ready to just let Ginny go, and if it meant that he would have to change his plans a little bit to get her to listen to him, he would do it.

Surprisingly, his opportunity presented itself that night.

Harry was unable to sleep. He had found it harder and harder of late; his mind was too full of things clamoring for his attention. Harry remembered when he was fourteen, Dumbledore had asked him if he had ever felt like this and he had been unable to understand what the Headmaster was talking about. He knew what it felt like now.

He was standing at Ron's window, looking out into the garden, when he saw a figure leave through the back door and head for the broom shed across the yard. The figure was wearing a cloak, and he couldn't tell who it was, but after a moment, he realized exactly who would be going for a nighttime flight: the only Weasley who had ever felt the need to sneak onto a broom, Ginny.

He crept downstairs, being careful not to disturb anyone, and followed her outside. He walked toward the shed, and stopped at the door. It was closed, but he could hear her moving around inside. He paused for a moment, and then knocked.

She opened the door, and looked at him appraisingly. For a moment, neither spoke, and then:

"So, you decided I exist, did you?"

Harry thought that this was not going at all well. "Yeah, well, you see, I always knew you existed. If you hadn't been there, I would have been able to look in your direction."

She scowled. "So you just came out here to be a jerk, is that it?"

Harry sighed. He felt an inclination to thump his head against the wall, and instantly regretted what he had said. "No! No, I came out here to tell you something."

"What would you possibly have to tell me, Harry? There's nothing else you can do to me." She pushed past him and began to walk away, but Harry followed.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_ Ginny stopped walking as he quoted the prophecy. She stood still, her back to him. Harry could only take it as a good sign. "I wanted to have something normal. Something Voldemort could never touch. But it didn't work out that way. Dumbledore is dead, and now I have to end this war before anyone else I care about gets hurt. I have things to do, Ginny. I can't just up and kill him; I have to make him mortal again first. It's going to take time, and when I'm done, he might kill me. You have to know that."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered.

"I wanted to be happy with you. I didn't want you to have to deal with that. You deserve better than to live wondering if this is the day I die at the hands of Voldemort, Ginny."

"But you told me anyway." Ginny turned to face him.

"Hermione said that you have the right to choose if you want anything to do with me. She's right. You should have all the facts I can give you."

"Will you take me with you?" Ginny asked.

This was the question Harry had most feared. Luckily, during his day of thinking, he had come up with an answer. "Sure, once you're of age, of course I will. But we're going to be spending some of our time at Hogwarts, and you can help us then, if we need you."

"But not all the time." She sounded angry.

"Ginny, I know I will need you. But I need you to wait. I want you to be happy for a while. Dumbledore gave me a great gift last year. He gave me the year off. I was in lessons with him, I knew about the prophecy, and I had things to worry about, of course, but I got to play Quidditch, and be with you, and deal with Ron and Hermione's problems – it was almost like being back in third year, before that Triwizard Tournament incident and everything went to hell. It was a good year. Things were happening, there was plenty going on, but Dumbledore managed to let me know enough that I wasn't constantly worrying about it. I can't get out of my mission anymore. Dumbledore took it for me, as far as he was able to, but now that's over. He's the one who said to tell Ron and Hermione, they know all about it and they can't let it go now any more than I can. But you don't have that burden, and I won't tell you until the time when I need you."

"Why did you break up with me, if you're not leaving and you're not going on this mission alone?"

"Because I want you safe. I was scared you could be targeted if we were dating. I still am. But I realized something today."

"And that is?" She asked coolly. Harry couldn't tell how she felt by her voice.

"I kissed you in front of a whole crowd of people in the common room. We were a hot gossip topic for weeks, and Malfoy must have heard about us. Rodmilla Vane probably told everyone you told her I have a Hungarian Horntail tattooed on my chest, and Voldemort must know that his diary kidnapped you by now. He already knows about us, whatever we do." Harry sank against the broom shed. "God, Ginny, I'm so sorry."

She sat down next to him. "For what?"

"I might have gotten you killed by going out with you. I should have been more careful, I should have started a row with you and told you I hate you. Anything to keep him from finding out…" Harry couldn't finish the thought.

"Finding out what? Harry, for crying out loud, the suspense is killing me!"

"Finding out the truth."

"Which is?"

Harry was fighting a huge internal war with himself. He wanted to tell her, but he knew that if he did she would never let him hold anything in. If he told her what he had been dying to tell her, he would never be able to keep her away from him or his mission – not that he really wanted to, but he had a duty to keep her safe, didn't he?

The beast in his chest stirred at the thought of saying what was on the tip of his tongue. He felt his control slipping. Of course she should know. No one was around to hear. It could be a secret. And Voldemort already knew he had dated her. Harry's fear of the consequences lessened.

"I love you," he told her.

She looked at him so intensely he thought she might be able to see all the way into his mind. "You do?" she asked, "I didn't know that. I love you too."

Harry smiled his first true smile since the death of Dumbledore. "Good." He sighed. Just for a moment, his burden had been lifted, and now it crashed down upon him again, everything he had to do. "Ginny, when this is over, I promise it'll be different if you still want me. But for right now, can we just try to concentrate on staying alive and finishing the job? I can't be distracted. This war has to end."

She leaned into him and he put an arm around her. "What are you working on right now?"

Harry kissed the top of her head, relishing in the smell of her hair. "We have a few things. Mostly, we need to know the identity of a certain wizard with the initials R.A.B."

Ginny looked up at him. "Why do you need to know that?"

"It's a complex story, and it's one of those things I don't want to tell you yet. R.A.B. was a Death Eater, he or she stole something from Voldemort, and was probably caught by Voldemort and punished at some point. I don't know when or where. It could have been during the First War."

"Harry, I think you're looking too hard," said Ginny. "The answer's kind of obvious."

"Who is it?" Harry asked in confusion. How did Ginny know the answer to this puzzle?

"There was a Death Eater with the initials R.A.B, which you know of, who did something to anger Voldemort seventeen years ago," said Ginny. "Regulus A. Black."

**A/N: Dun Dun Dun…. Okay, for everyone who hasn't caught that one, sorry! For the majority of the planet, I know, it's an evil cliffie, because I'm not even telling you something you didn't already know. Oh well. Who cares, it was hard to write. I'd just like to apologize for what everyone will call OOCness, I think Harry's just a big softie, and he has to get back together with Ginny, otherwise it's just unfair….insert rant here.**


	7. The Wedding to end all Weddings

**This does not belong to me. Are you happy yet?**

Ron was most unhappy.

"How could you! You told my only sister she can go with us to find the first Horcrux! You said you'd protect her, you broke up with her to protect her, and now all of a sudden you're dating again and she's going with us! How could you?"

"Ron," Hermione said patiently, "everyone knew they were together. Voldemort already knows. Harry's not doing her any good staying away from her, and it might put her in more danger if she isn't with him as much anyway."

"I don't care! She still can't come with us to find the first Horcrux! I won't let her."

"She's not," said Harry. "We're just going to Grimmauld Place to check and see if we can find some clue to the location of the first Horcrux. That's all."

"So why is it so important that she goes, then?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Sometimes Ron could be a bit stupid. "Because she's the one that came up with the clue we needed that led us to Grimmauld Place, which is more than we came up with on our own."

"So you're basically saying you told her everything. After we agreed to wait until we need her."

"No, I just told her we were looking for the name of a dead Death Eater with the initials R.A.B. who might have gotten on the outs with Voldemort. She came up with a name, and I decided to ask her to come along in case she remembers something else, which is more than we've managed. Actually, I haven't even asked her yet. I just told you I was going to ask her and you jumped down my throat."

"Oh." Ron looked at the clock. "We might want to get dressed soon. The wedding's in an hour."

Hermione gasped. "Oh no! I'm supposed to be doing Ginny's hair right now!" She ran from the room.

"Mental." Ron muttered. "It's just hair."

They put on their dress robes in silence, and went downstairs. They could hear the girls giggling behind Ginny's bedroom door, and Harry plainly heard Hermione's voice saying, "He said _what_?"

Harry had a pretty good idea what they were talking about.

Downstairs, he found an empty chair in the living room to wait until closer to time for the ceremony. Ron was outside, escorting various relatives to their seats. Harry was enjoying the privacy, it gave him some time to think about the night before, and the time he had spent with Ginny outside by the broom shed, until…

"So, mate, what's this Ginny was telling Hermione?" asked Fred, apparating onto the couch. Something you said to her, what was it? Oh, yes. Now I remember!"

Suddenly, a large amount of confetti appeared over Harry's head, all of it bearing what seemed to be…

"Guys?" Harry asked, "Why make confetti with tiny pictures of your sister on it?"

"Well," replied George, "we actually didn't. We enchanted the confetti so that it would show a picture of whoever the person we cast it on was thinking of. We were looking for a way to test it…this was perfect."

"We can't allow you to go saying things like that to our sister without a little payback," said Fred.

"Besides, the girls are up there mooning over you," said George.

"Bit revolting, really,"

"But, it doesn't matter, we just wanted you to know, you're not getting away with this. If you want to tell Ginny you _love her_, you have to deal with all of us now."

"What George is trying to say, is, you're doomed, mate."

The twins grinned. "Fred," said George, "don't you think that we need to be testing our new chair cushions right about now?"

"Why, yes, dear brother, I do," replied Fred. "Bye, Harry. Don't do anything we'd have to kill you for!"

"And don't tell Mum, she's gonna be revolting enough for the next month, 'my little baby's getting _married...'"_

The twins left the room, leaving Harry alone again. He glanced at his watch: the wedding was due to start soon. He left the room to go find a seat with Hermione.

Harry supposed that weddings were very emotional times, but he didn't understand why every woman present needed to leak like a hosepipe. Since Ron and Ginny were both in the wedding, Harry and Hermione were seated together close to the front of the ceremony. Hermione was sobbing onto Harry's shoulder as Bill and Fleur said their vows. Harry, himself, was distracted during the ceremony, although only a complete idiot would fail to notice the ever-larger stain on the shoulder of his dress robes.

The thing that was distracting him was Ginny.

Fleur had, as she had been constantly saying, dressed the bridesmaids in pale gold, and Harry thought that this was especially flattering on Ginny. She was standing behind Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, and looked magnificent in her gold robes, carrying a bouquet of flowers. Hermione had arranged her hair in ringlets, and although Harry didn't understand why girls bothered with their hair so much, he was able to appreciate the end result: Ginny looked gorgeous.

The wedding continued, the little old man who had performed Dumbledore's funeral talking about love and commitment and how wonderful those things were, Hermione sobbing on his shoulder, Ron trying (and failing) to not fidget during the ceremony, and Harry still had eyes only for Ginny.

Abruptly, the music started again and all the guests rose. Fleur and Bill walked off down the aisle followed by their various siblings. Hermione looked up as Ron passed them, and then promptly started sobbing into Harry's robes again. When the music stopped, guests began to file towards the food, and the dozen or so tables set up in the yard. Harry followed; Hermione, still crying, in tow.

They reached their seats and were about to sit when something clicked for Harry. "Wait!" he told the Weasleys. "Don't sit! Where are Fred and George?"

Mrs. Weasley looked suspicious. "Why?"

"I heard them talking about the chairs before the wedding. It didn't click then, but…"

Someone screamed. The Weasleys all looked over. Someone, likely a friend of Bill's, had sat down in his seat, and was now wearing a white wedding veil on his head. Fred and George could be seen near the food giving each other high fives and grinning. Harry looked over at the others at his table. Mr. Weasley was looking at his chair as though he was dying to collapse into it, but clearly wondering if he dared. Mrs. Weasley was looking at the twins as though she wanted to kill them. Bill was laughing, Charlie was poking his chair suspiciously as though testing it, and Ron was heading over to Fred and George with an inquisitive air about him. Hermione looked simply annoyed. Ginny, however, sat down in her chair muttering something about "wimps" as a wedding veil popped onto her head. She sighed and removed it, then took off her high heeled shoes before heading for the food herself.

The festivities carried on all day and into the evening. First there was food, then the band started playing, more food (Mrs. Weasley's mission to fatten Harry up had been slacking of late, but she was making up for it today), and toasts made by each member of the Weasley and Delacour families. Harry listened as Fleur's family broke into sobs one by one, and then as the eight Weasleys had their turn. Mr. Weasley told a few anecdotes about Bill's childhood and how proud he was. Mrs. Weasley also broke into sobs in the middle of her toast: "my little baby's getting _married_!" she wailed. Charlie told the assembled guests how brilliant this was because Bill was in need of someone to tell him when he had his shoes on the wrong feet ("I was _five_!" yelled Bill, pretending to throttle his brother).

Fred and George stood up next, and Mrs. Weasley looked a little pale. They made a traditional (and uncharacteristically low-key) toast, but just before sitting down, launched a small firecracker that, instead of shooting sparks, sprinkled their enchanted confetti on Bill and Fleur. They each reached out and snatched a piece off of each of them, examined the pieces, and declared, in one voice, "just testing!" before sitting back down and holding up a sign that read: "Confetti of Love: 10 knuts a bag!"

Ron's turn was next, and then Ginny's. They both spoke about how Bill had usually been their favorite older brother when they were growing up. Bill finished up with a toast to his new wife.

The band started playing again, and, surprisingly, Ron led Hermione onto the dance floor. The Weasleys drifted away until Harry was left sitting alone with Ginny. He sighed. There was only one thing he could think to do, and although he didn't want to do it, some battles just had to be fought. He turned to Ginny.

"Dance with me?"

She grinned. They made their way onto the dance floor, and spent the rest of the evening dancing, eating, and talking, enjoying themselves to the fullest. Harry knew, that night, that for him, the war would truly begin tomorrow, but Ron had been right, when he said, after Dumbledore's funeral, that they had to go to the wedding. Harry was now quite sure, as he watched Fleur and Bill cut what had formerly been a beautiful cake but was now squashed all over Bill's face, that all he wanted to do was make sure he survived to have this for himself someday.


	8. Slytherin

**You know, if I was JKR, it'd be really cool.**

**I would have so much fun being JKR.**

**I would buy a ton of DVDs and books and I would know how this story would end.**

**But instead, I'm just a humble fan, making my own story up because I don't want to spend two years guestimating for nothing. So enjoy.**

The next morning dawned cloudy and misty, and Harry felt the change inside him. He still felt the cheer from the day before, but there was also a restlessness, and a desire to end the war, so that he could get back to his life. He wasn't sure what that would mean, but he knew that he had never had any part of his life untainted by Voldemort, and he desperately wanted it.

He had arranged with Remus the night before that they would go to Godric's Hollow in a few days, but for now, Harry was going to go to Grimmauld Place with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The house had been vacated, because no one was quite sure how Dumbledore's death would effect the Fidelius Charm that had been placed on it, but the Order had kept it under surveillance and no Death Eaters had been there, so Harry was willing to take the risk for this important mission. He was, however, taking certain precautions, such as the fact that Ginny had to remain in physical contact with one of them at all times and that the three Order members would all have their Portkeys.

The plan was to go to Grimmauld Place and collect everything they could find that had belonged to Regulus Black, shrink it small enough to fit in a pocket, and then return to sort through it in the relative safety of Hogwarts.

The four of them lined up in front of the fire with their Floo Powder as Harry went over the plan, again.

"We're looking for anything that might be connected to Regulus. Just get it out of there and we'll sort it all out here. Ginny, remember, you can't let go of us for an instant."

He turned to the fire, threw in his powder, and called, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" then stepped in and was whisked off to the kitchen of the house he had been avoiding for a year.

The house was dark, but Harry was able to see that the kitchen was more or less unchanged. He had time to look around, noticing that the cupboards that had once held the heirlooms of Black family treasure seemed to be empty. He sighed. Just then, Ginny appeared in the fireplace, and Harry grabbed her as soon as she had stopped spinning. Holding hands, they examined the room as Ron and Hermione Flooed in, looking for anything that might have belonged to Regulus, but all the cupboards were bare. Finally, it was Hermione who spoke.

"Mundungus."

This was the thing that Harry had feared: many of the treasures of the house were in the possession of Mundungus Fletcher, who was, incidentally, in Azkaban for various petty crimes at this moment. If Mundungus had gotten his hands on a clue about Regulus, who knew where it could be?

Harry sighed. "We need to decide what room to search next. Any ideas?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I made a list last night, and prioritized it. First, we are going to search Regulus's room, which is untouched. Then we're going to look in the attic, where a large number of the Dark things we found were stored, and then we'll check for hidden compartments in the main rooms where he might have hidden something. Remember, try not to talk, and keep your minds clear for any hint of Dark magic – you should be able to feel it if you're concentrating. If you get a hint of anything, don't touch it, and alert all of us, we'll take the whole container of whatever it is straight to Hogwarts. If anyone sees a locket, it's possible we might have found what we're looking for, so don't touch that, either. We'll levitate it into a box and take all the lockets back to the school with us. Clear?"

The other three nodded. Quietly, they headed up to Regulus's room and began their search.

Harry had never before appreciated Grimmauld Place. The house was big and spacious, and now that it was almost entirely decontaminated and Kreacher wasn't wandering around all the time, it was almost pleasant. Except, of course, for the only bedroom that had been left untouched.

Harry knew that Sirius had disapproved of his brother, but, apparently, there was just enough fraternal love left to keep his Regulus's possessions intact. Except for the fact that the room had obviously been rid of dark creatures, there was no sign that anything had been moved. This made their work much easier.

Regulus's stuff was certainly interesting. There were all the things that you would expect to see: clothes, books, and mementos. But most of it was in a rather disturbing category: books about eliminating Muggle-borns from the Wizarding world, a predominance of dark colors among the clothing, and even a few pictures from Hogwarts that showed Regulus and his Slytherin friends tormenting Muggle-borns.

Ginny was the one who found the notebook. It was hidden inside the mattress of the bed. The notes it contained were about the Dark Arts: rumors of various spells or potions or ideas that Regulus had heard of around the house. It seemed that he had been trying to learn as much as possible about the forbidden knowledge of his parents as he could. There was a page devoted to Horcruxes. Harry wordlessly handed the book to Hermione, who scanned the page and gasped.

"This is it!" she said, "Right here! He writes:

_I have found the information I seek, in the halls of Hogwarts._

_The Dark Lord has, indeed, found a way to split his soul_

_I know that he will have powerful protection on the Horcrux, and judging by the work he has had me doing on ways to defeat Capturing Potions, I believe I know what that is._

_I no longer know where my loyalties lie; I only know that Sirius was right about one thing: Voldemort is evil. And I am not prepared to follow evil_

_I know there is nothing I can say to win back the respect of my brother. Now is the time for action. I will steal the Horcrux, but until I get my hands on it I cannot know how to destroy it, nor will I know if I will have the time. Therefore, if anyone should find this notebook, I can only hope that you, too will have the courage to do what is right._

"That's it!" Hermione said. "This is proof that Ginny is right, and that we are on the right track. And, he said Capturing Potions…there's pages and pages of notes on those in here. We can finally get to the bottom of that other question, later. For now, let's concentrate on the locket. We know he got it from the cave."

"He knew he might not have time to destroy it," said Harry. "But Voldemort never knew what Regulus had done. The Death Eaters killed him."

"Why, though?" asked Ginny. "He wouldn't if Voldemort didn't know what he'd done?"

"Doesn't matter," said Ron. "The important thing is that he died. But the Death Eaters didn't know what he had done. So his body, and everything he had with him, would have been returned to his parents. That's how it works."

"And his parents would have put the things he had with him somewhere," said Harry. "They collected everything else."

"You're sure it was a locket?" asked Ginny.

"Pretty sure," Harry told her.

"Then, what about that locket we found two years ago in the cabinets in the drawing room, the one that wouldn't open?"

The other three looked at her, amazed.

"Of course!" said Hermione, "that locket has been right here the whole time! R.A.B, Regulus, in his home, it all fits. That cabinet had a bunch of trophies of dead family members, including what Regulus had on him when he died. But where is it now?"

Harry had a sudden thought. It was not a pleasant one.

"Kreacher," he said, and a house – elf wearing a tattered loincloth appeared in the room. "Master has summoned Kreacher?" it asked, muttering, "filthy master is not fit to be in Master Regulus's room, oh no."

"Kreacher," said Harry, "did you take a locket from the pile in the drawing room two summers ago?"

"Kreacher did as he had to," replied the elf evasively.

"Did you have to take the locket?" asked Harry.

"The locket was all my mistress had to keep from her beloved son after he died," said Kreacher, muttering, "Master is not fit to touch such an item, no he is not."

"Where is the locket now?" asked Harry.

"Kreacher put it away, in the attic, where it will not be disturbed," the elf told him.

"Go and get it," Harry told the elf, "and bring it to me. Don't go anywhere else, contact anyone in any way, or make any noise in the process, clear?"

"Kreacher must do as Master asks," the elf muttered angrily. He disappeared with a pop and then returned to the room carrying a locket.

"Thank you, Kreacher," said Harry. "Now, put the locket on the bed, return to Hogwarts, and don't tell anyone you were here or that we spoke. In fact, never mention this to anyone again."

"Kreacher set the locket down, glared at Harry, and vanished."

Harry smiled, then reached out with a piece of blanket over his hand and grabbed the locket, then nodded to the others. They all grabbed their Portkeys and were swept away, Ginny pulled along with them.

In the Room of Requirement, the four of them sat and stared at the locket.

"We did it," said Hermione. "We found it. It's over."

"It's not over," said Ron. "We don't even know how to destroy it."

"Yes we do," said Harry. "At least, I do. We have to open it."

"How do you know that?" asked Hermione. "For all we know, that'll make it worse."

"I just know, like I did with Riddle's diary."

Harry immediately knew he had said the wrong thing. Ginny looked at him, her eyes narrowed. "_What_!"

Harry turned to her. "Well, I destroyed it, didn't I? So, think of this like the same type of thing. I can do it again. Just…I'd rather not use Basilisk venom this time."

Ginny glared at him. "Why didn't you tell me Riddle's diary had something to do with all this? How could you hide that from me?"

"Because," Harry told her, "you're taking some time off, remember? You are going to live what you can of your life while you still can, and the diary is gone. It no longer has anything to do with Voldemort. I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, it just hasn't come up. So now you know, okay? It was important. Without Riddle's diary, Dumbledore might never have figured out what we needed to do to kill Voldemort. But the diary itself isn't dangerous any more. And I don't think this can hurt you."

"Why wouldn't it be able to hurt you?" asked Ron.

"Because the diary was a weapon and the ring was a trap. But the last four would be for protection, so they'll be hidden and guarded against being stolen, but not meant to do any damage themselves. He wouldn't want anyone to fight back."

Ron seemed satisfied with this explanation.

Hermione examined the locket. "The obvious solution," she said, "would be to open it with the catch. But that doesn't seem to be working right now," she continued, trying it. "So, maybe we could take the screws out of the hinge, and open it that way, or pry it open somehow…"

Meanwhile, Ginny had gotten up and moved over to a table at the side of the room. When she returned, she carried a heavy-looking metal lump in her hand. She raised it above her head and smashed it down on the locket before anyone could stop her.

A green glow surrounded the pieces of the locket, and then faded away. The shattered locket was now just that: a shattered locket.

Ginny looked very satisfied with herself.

**A/N: I have received some backlash for the contents of this chapter that I would like to address in this revision. Most of it has been centered on the way in which the Horcrux was destroyed.**

**Basically, I wanted Ginny to get one. I felt that she deserved one, and I felt that she deserved for it to be Slytherin's, because of her role in the whole Heir of Slytherin thing.**

**As for the lump of metal – I think the most remarkable thing about the locket is that none of them could open it. So how do you go about opening it? I could have made it be some complex spellcasting thing, but that just smacks of Hermione. So instead I just got Ginny to bash it open while everyone else was arguing.**

**Simple, yet effective. And if you really have a problem with that, that's okay, but it's not gonna change now. I have bigger issues to deal with.**


	9. Coming of Age

**I would love to be able to say that I own Harry Potter. I wish I could tell you that I know what will happen in the future of the story. But I can't. I'm just a humble fan, and I don't know how it will end.**

**I can predict, however. And this is my nonprofit prediction.**

**Also, I stole the chapter title from a Star Trek episode. Oops. **

Ginny was a little irate once they returned to Gryffindor tower.

"How dare you not tell me Tom Riddle's diary was mixed up in all this!" she yelled. "I have a right to know if what he did to me is in any way related to what you're doing now! I cannot believe you would be so foolish as to think that you have the right to just not tell me something like that."

"I didn't mean to not tell you," Harry told her. "It just isn't that important. I wiped everything Voldemort left in that diary out of it four years ago. I think the Malfoys have it now. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but it really doesn't matter now. The diary cannot hurt anyone again. And now, no one will be hurt by that locket either. The battle's half over. Three more of those and we're home free."

"So what are we looking for now?" she asked.

"A cup that used to belong to Helga Hufflepuff. Any ideas?"

Ginny scowled. "No."

The next day was Harry's birthday.

He had almost forgotten, with everything that had happened, but he was startled, when he got down to the Great Hall for breakfast, that the entire Weasley family, except Percy (who was still not speaking to them) and Bill (who was still on his honeymoon) was there waiting for him, under a banner that read, "Happy Birthday, Harry."

They sat down to eat, and Harry enjoyed the conversation immensely, but he knew he had work to do and couldn't allow the mere fact of his birthday to disrupt it. Before he could bring that up, however, Ginny spoke up.

"Now," she said, "I know you have things to do, so we decided to make it a short party. But we brought you presents…" Mr. Weasley waved his wand and a large pile of gifts appeared… "and we're telling you to take the morning off. Have some fun. We brought brooms!"

Harry frowned. He really wanted to have a break, play some Qudditch…but could he allow himself to take that kind of time? Voldemort could do so much damage before he had the chance to do anything about it, and he wanted to keep looking. Ron and Hermione seemed similarly hesitant.

"Harry," Ginny told him, "you've earned a break after yesterday. A little one will help you work faster."

Harry nodded. "You're right. Let's play!"

He started to open his presents. There were all kinds of things there. Ron and Hermione had given him a case for his broom, and Bill and Fleur and bought him a wand holster. Charlie had given him a dragon hide jacket, and Fred and George had brought him a box containing at least one of every item in their shop. Ginny gave him a picture that Colin Creevy had taken of them the year before in a gold frame. Lupin had sent him a letter, with instructions on the outside not to open it until he was alone. All in all, however, his best gift was from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

He opened a small, thin package to discover a clock hand with his name on it. It matched the other hands on their family clock perfectly. Mr. Weasley took it from him. "I'll put it on as soon as we get home this afternoon," he said.

Harry didn't know what to say. "This is just…too much," he told them. "You didn't have to…"

"And also," said Mrs. Weasley, "I've had just about enough of this 'Mrs. Wealsey' business, understand? You can call us Molly and Arthur, or Mum and Dad, it's your choice, but after all this time, it's ridiculous to expect that we would want to be so formal."

Harry couldn't answer her without getting choked up, but he was spared in immediate response when the twins' box of goodies set off a firework that released a cloud of Peruvian instant darkness powder. The whole family grouped together and groped their way to the exit, laughing.

After a game of Quidditch (in which he, Ron, and Ginny flattened Fred, George, and Charlie) Harry was feeling very good indeed about his decision to take a morning off from work. That afternoon, however, they went right back to it. Hermione had drawn up a list of things they needed to know:

_What was in the potion Dumbledore drank?_

_Why did Snape kill Dumbledore?_

_Where is Hufflepuff's cup now?_

_Did Ravenclaw leave any artifacts behind?_

_Did Gryffindor leave any artifacts other than his sword behind?_

_How is Harry supposed to kill Voldemort?_

_Where is Voldemort's stronghold located?_

Harry felt that starting with the first one was a good place to begin. Hermione agreed, since they had Regulus' work on Capturing Potions to work out of, they began by opening his notebook and reading his notes on the subject.

**Capturing Potions**

Purpose:

To imprison the drinker and put all his knowledge under the control of a single individual.

Key ingredients:

Moonstone

Monkshood

Asphodel

How it works:

The potion will force the drinker to relive his darkest fears. Depending on the strength of will of the individual, it will, over time, eat away at their mental defenses until it makes a virtual slave of them. The potion also drains the drinker of magical power, meaning that only the most rudimentary spells will be available to him, and then only for a short time. By the time their mental defenses are overridden, the drinker is as a Squib. At this point, the drinker will then seek out the one who made the potion, who is their new master. There is no antidote to this potion.

There followed a complex, many-paged set of minor ingredients, instructions on how to make the potion, and cautions on how not to screw it up.

Harry scowled. "This is it," he said, "but how do we apply it?"

"Well," Hermione responded, "we know that Dumbledore was about to be enslaved, probably by Voldemort. We know he had very little power with which to defend himself, and you can see that by the way he only used very rudimentary spells at all after he drank the potion. _Petrificus Totalus_…we've been able to do that since first year. Dumbledore didn't use anything fancier because he couldn't. Think about it – if he'd been able to, he could have disarmed Malfoy, then run downstairs and stunned all the Death Eaters if he wanted to. And if everything he knew was about to go to Voldemort, he would rather have died. I think we can present this tonight, and decide where to go from there."

That night, the Order met as usual. The same reports were given about the same things as always, and then it was Harry's turn. The other members turned to him, no doubt expecting the usual "everything's good" line, but they were all about to be surprised.

"Since we were last at a meeting," said Harry, "we have accomplished one of the things we needed to do before Voldemort can be killed. Three more remain, and if anyone knows anything about objects said to belong to one of the Hogwarts founders, especially a cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff, it would be appreciated.

"We also have come across information about Dumbledore's death that sheds new light on exactly what Snape's motive might have been. The night he died, Dumbledore drank a potion that weakened him considerably. He was unable to Apparate by himself, and when we arrived at the tower, instead of Disarming Malfoy, he Petrified me. I believe it was because he drank a Capturing Potion and was unable to work that spell."

This announcement was greeted with silence by the rest of the Order.

"But, Harry," interjected Tonks, "you can't mean that Dumbledore wanted to die. Why wouldn't he just let Malfoy kill him, if that was the case?"

"Dumbledore believed Malfoy could be saved," said Harry. "He never would have doubted it. That's what he did. He believed in people. He trusted Snape. Maybe we should trust that, at least until we know otherwise."

Harry knew that this was unlikely to go over well. He had not even mentioned that he planned to say this to Ron or Hermione, partly because he couldn't believe that he would say it. But he knew that this, more than anything, was what Dumbledore would have wanted, and that it was finally time for him to learn that lesson, once and for all. He could think of no better way to honor Dumbledore's memory.

**A/N: Don't flame me for this. I am not a fan of Snape, I never have been and I never will be. I've gotten enough hate mail about this to last me a lifetime, some of it from friends of mine. So please, don't hate me.**


	10. Godric's Hollow

**Not mine, blah blah blah, I didn't come up with it, blah blah blah, I don't claim to own it, blah blah blah…broken record much?**

After the Order meeting, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went back to their routine. Their work felt easier, somehow, with the partial answering of their questions.

Hermione, in particular, seemed more cheerful. She began to worry about the Hogwarts house-elves again ("Ronald! It won't kill you to put the books back yourself, you know!")

A week after Harry's birthday, Professor McGonagall stopped him n the corridor. "The next Apparation test date is in three days," she told him. "Do you think you can be ready?"

An image of cold sea flashed into Harry's mind. "_I am not worried…I am with you…"_ "Sure, Professor," he replied tonelessly.

She looked concerned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he replied more firmly, "I am."

"Good. You and Mr. Weasley may meet the other testees in Hogsmeade at three o clock on Tuesday." She walked away.

Harry, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to be excited at all, wandered back to the library.

Tuesday was another cold, dreary, and foggy day. Harry and Ron left the castle after lunch and wandered down to Hogsmeade. The first person they saw when they got to Main Street was Neville Longbottom. He was deep in conversation with Ernie Macmillan.

"And then," he was telling Ernie, "Gran told me I had to join some Order just like my parents and I told her that I wouldn't be taking any more orders based on what my parents did. So I packed up and moved into Mum and Dad's old house, since I'm seventeen now anyway."

"You mean you won't be fighting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" asked Ernie, sounding scandalized.

"Of course I will," said Neville. "I'm just sick of Gran wanting be to be my dad all the time."

Ernie looked slightly mollified.

"Speaking of fighting You-Know-Who," said Ron, "the D.A. is starting up again."

Harry glanced at Ron. They hadn't planned to tell anyone it was a training ground for the Order yet. Ron shrugged.

"Excellent!" said Ernie. "I knew it would be worth it to return to school this year!" Neville nodded in agreement.

Just then, the small, pale Professor Tofty approached their group. "All here?" he asked. "Longbottom, Macmillan, Potter, and Weasley?" The boys all nodded to him. "Good."

They followed Professor Tofty over to a group of their fellow seventh years outside the Three Broomsticks. "When I call your name," said the professor, "please Apparate to the place I name and back again. Parvati Patil!"

Parvati stepped forward. "Scrivenshafts, please!" called the diminutive professor. Parvati vanished and reappeared down the street, then returned. Tofty looked her over carefully, then tapped his paper with his wand. "Pass!"

The test continued. One by one, the students took a turn. Most passed. Ron's test went very well, although Tofty seemed overly concerned with the state of his eyebrows. Neville passed, although he took longer to complete his Apparation then normal.

When it was time for Seamus Finnegan's test, Professor Tofty looked nervous – however, Seamus passed easily.

One by one, the list of students to be tested grew shorter until: "Harry Potter!"

Harry stepped up to the professor. "Please pop up to the front of Madam Puddifoot's and back again," said Tofty.

_Destination,_ thought Harry, _determination, deliberation._

The last time he had apparated popped into his mind. "_I am not worried, Harry, I am with you."_

For a second, the memory threatened to destroy his concentration, but he pushed it away. He would do Dumbledore proud.

Pop! An uncomfortable squeeze and he was in front of Madam Puddifoot's. Pop! Another squeeze and he was back in front of the professor.

"Well done!" cried Professor Tofty. "Pass!"

In the end, only four of Harry's classmates failed their tests (Ernie Macmillan, Padma Patil, Crabbe, and Goyle). The whole group stopped in at the Three Broomsticks for a drink – Harry took the opportunity to have a chat with the D.A. members.

Dean Thomas was still angry with Harry for the previous year's events and unwilling to talk to him. Seamus, on the other hand, was enthusiastic, as was Neville. All three were eager to return to school in September.

Parvati and Padma Patil were both cautious about the idea. Parvati, in particular, seemed repressed; Harry eventually got her to admit that Lavender Brown, her best friend, would not be returning to school. Ron was unable to repress a look of relief when he heard that news.

When they approached Susan Bones, who was in the middle of a fervent conversation about Terry Boot (unsure about continuing) she was enthusiastic. She also informed them that Hannah Abbott, who had left school the year before, was seriously considering coming back.

Feeling good about the responses he had received, Harry returned to school in time for he end of a very uneventful Order meeting. After dinner, the twins bullied him and Ron in to a game of Exploding Snap. Hermione returned to the library.

As the days went on, Harry was more and more anxious to hear from Remus Lupin, but he did not seem to be available. Professor McGonagall had told him that Lupin was undercover, watching magical creatures (although his cover with the werewolves was blown) and not always available he turned up when he could.

More than two weeks passed after Harry's birthday before Lupin appeared at an Order meeting. Afterwards, he took Harry out onto the grounds and handed him a slip of paper.

"I found this at Peter's house after he vanished," he told Harry. Harry looked down at the paper. It read:

The Potters can be found at

#7 Godric's Way, Godric's Hollow

"The charm is still in place," Lupin told him. "You, of course are still under that charm – you will be able to find it. But Ron and Hermione will need to read that if they're coming along – which I assume they are?"

"If I'm still under the charm," asked Harry, "how is it that anyone can see me?"

"The charm is only effective in the city of Godric's Hollow," Lupin told him, "The spell was set up so everyone in town could see your family, but not talk about you."

"How?"

"I don't pretend to be an expert on these things, Harry. It's very complex. Magic exists to do almost everything – It's almost always somewhere in the wording. As Professor Flitwick says, 'never forget Wizard Barruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.'"

The house was a wreck.

A huge field of charred wood was really about all that remained of what had been Harry's first home. Walking through, it was obvious in some places that this might have been a dining room or that might have been a kitchen, but anything that was worth anything had rotted away long ago.

"The nursery was upstairs," Lupin told them, "about here. They found your father here," he pointed to a spot near what had once been the front door, "and your mother in the nursery – of course, you knew that. When Voldemort was defeated, somehow, the house must have been destroyed."

"How could Harry have even survived the explosion?" Hermione asked.

Lupin frowned. "The wall fell over his cot intact. He wasn't hit by any debris."

Looking around, Harry had to agree. He had been very lucky.

The Cemetery wasn't much better.

A light rain was now falling, and the wind was cold. Harry, Ron, and Hermione pulled their cloaks tighter around themselves. They walked up the hill toward the highest part of the cemetery. At the top of the hill, under the shade of a tree, was a large gravestone, bearing the words:

James and Lily

POTTER

1969 - October 31, 1981

"The More Difficult the Task,

the Sweeter the Victory."

Harry hadn't known what to expect, but it hadn't been this.

Deep down, he knew, he had hoped that by coming here he would be able to unlock the answers to questions he hadn't even thought to ask yet. He wanted to solve all the mysteries of the universe, or at least have his parents solve them all for him.

But instead all there was was a big rock with some words carved on it. It was almost funny.

Once again, instead of finding solace, he found nothing. It was really quite depressing.

"We'll give you some time," said Remus. Harry could hear the others walk away. Not even Ron protested.

Harry sat down in front of the grave. Just then, he noticed, for the first time, what was carved at the top of the massive headstone: a pair of antlers cradling a lily.

When he walked back down the hill, Harry felt better. "Thanks for coming with me," he told his friends. "I couldn't have done it without you." Together they turned in place and Apparated away.


	11. Seventh Year

**If a fan writes fanfic in the middle of the forest that doesn't belong to her, and she never tries to claim it is, does anyone care?**

Hermione woke them up the morning of September the First by running into the room and jumping onto the foot of Ron's bed. Harry was gratified to see this: it meant that Hermione was in a better mood than was normal for her lately, even if it was odd for her to be this chipper. Ron merely groaned and pulled the covers over his head.

"I just got the list of confirmed students returning!" she told them excitedly. "Well, it's a little smaller than we thought, but we can start planning better for the next term – especially the D.A. And the subject's we're going to study. You can take Arithmancy now!"

Harry couldn't get himself too excited about this. "Who's coming back?" he asked.

"Dean, Neville, and Seamus," replied Hermione, "along with Parvati and Padma Patil; Pansy Parkinson, the _cow_; Crabbe; Goyle; Terry Boot; Susan Bones; Hannah Abbot; Ernie Macmillan; and Justin Finch-Fletchley."

"Just the seventh years are coming back?"

"No, there's a few more. Ginny. Colin and Dennis Creevey. That Derrick kid from Hufflepuff, the fifth year. Oh, and Luna, of course. But there aren't any more Slytherins.

"Wow," Ron said, emerging from under the covers, "McGonagall's right. It's barely worth keeping the school open."

"Well, it's a good thing they are," said Hermione, "or we'd be sunk, Ronald, don't forget. You're the one who wanted to run off and leave school, remember?" She stomped out.

"Wow," said Ron. "Bit touchy, isn't she?"

Hermione's mood, thankfully, seemed to have reversed itself by the time she got back to the common room after breakfast. Neither chipper nor angry, she seemed about normal. Harry had to repress a nasty surge of guilt – he was sure her odd moods were a result of the stress he had her under.

The students were due to arrive around dinnertime as usual, which gave them plenty of time to prepare for school to start the next day. Since there were only going to be enough students there for one _tiny_ class, the teachers had decided to use an independent study approach. Harry was given a personal timetable, showing weekly appointments with professors McGonagall, Slughorn, Flitwick, Sprout, and Sinistra, as well as scheduling time to have D.A. meetings.

Ron had been the one to propose having the D.A. meet in two groups – one of the students they thought would make good Order members (This was the group they called Dumbledore's Army) and one of the students they just wanted to train in Defense (This was the Defense Association). They had decided to have both groups meet together as well on Fridays, when everyone had free time.

It came as a bit of a shock to Harry when he was offered a choice of classrooms to hold practices in, but there was really only one room he needed – the Room of Requirement. Of course, after a while, he realized he didn't want to automatically tell everyone in the castle the Room existed – just on the off chance someone didn't know about it by now – so he decided to hold the Defense Association meetings in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

The students arrived around seven o'clock and filed into the Great Hall. All eighteen of them. For a school that was usually home to as many as eight hundred students, eighteen was a sobering thought.

After everyone sat down, Professor McGonagall stood up. "If everyone will please come to attention! I have a few announcements. First, all Hogsmeade visits are cancelled whilst He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is still out there. Second, all students will note that Defense Against the Dark Arts has been cancelled. In its place will be a student-run club known as the Defense Association." There as a slight murmur among the students at these words. "Third, due to a lack of students, there will be no inter-house Quidditch cup. And, finally, as we have no first years, there will be no Sorting this year. Thank you." She started to sit down, then changed her mind and spoke again. "I am sure that if Professor Dumbledore were here, he would have something inspirational to say right now. I wish he were here, because, honestly, I wish I could hear it too. All I can say is that we _can_ get through this, so long as we stand together. I am counting on each of you to do your best. And now, let the feast begin!"

The food appeared on the table and, predictably, Ron dug in right away. Hermione, after a short interval, began piling food on her plate as well. Harry just sat for a minute before he joined them, enjoying the last Hogwarts Welcoming Feast he would ever participate in.

That evening, Ginny joined him in the Common Room. "Any luck yet?" she asked.

"Not yet," he told her, "but we'll get there. Just a matter of time." He kissed her cheek. "I'm going to bed – long day. I'm glad you're here. See you in the morning?"

As he headed up the stairs, he heard her mutter, "Wimp."

School was almost unrecognizable. There were almost no essays to be written, just a lot of practical work and discussing theory with teachers – at least for Harry and Ron. Hermione, who had a long history of learning spells just by reading about them, was still writing essays and spending her time behind tottering piles of books, but even she spent much more time doing the spells than she had before. One thing was clear: the teachers wanted them ready to do magic at any time, not just be able to look up the spell in a book.

Silent spellwork, Harry's nemesis, was proving as difficult this year as last year. But as time wore on, Harry was able to do better – in large part, he thought, due to Occlumency and Legilimency training. He wasn't sure if it was because Snape wasn't the teacher this time or maybe if it was because he was trying harder, but lessons with Professor Sinistra were rapidly improving his ability to both block and receive the thoughts of those around him. He could almost always tell when Ron was lying to Hermione about his homework now, and he was beginning to truly appreciate just how devious Ginny could be. Hermione, however, remained a closed book.

September passed into October, and things remained the same. Harry was beginning to seethe with impatience. His D.A. students were progressing well, Ron and Hermione were helping him research artifacts left by Ravenclaw (there weren't many) and life was so passive that Harry felt he was going mad.

**A/N: I stole the part about McGonagall wanting to hear what inspirational thing Dumbledore would say from a line written for William Riker in an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. Everything else came out of my own imagination.**


	12. All Hallows Eve

**Can't I just pretend to own it for a minute or so?**

On Halloween, however, Harry wished he could just go back to the way things had been. His day began earlier than he would have liked when Ron had an idea.

"Harry, I've just had the best idea ever! We can keep the Quidditch teams going after all, if we just form two teams out of who we have here instead of the four we're used to!"

"Fine," said Harry, "but can I sleep now?"

He was tired. He'd been up reading half the night. Ron, however, ignored this. "We'll need members. Can I count on you?"

"Sure." Shielding techniques. It had been shielding techniques. Boring enough to put anyone's brain in a permanent shutdown. And Harry had no desire to get up after only the four hours of sleep he had gotten.

"Hey, Harry," said Ron, "can you help me get some new members? We can't have the same team as last year, of course, but..."

Harry got up and headed down the stairs to the Common Room, where he had the displeasure of running into Dean Thomas. Dean had hardly spoken to Harry since their return, and Harry was glad – less fighting had to be a good thing. Before Dean could do more than glare, Harry ducked through the portrait hole.

He climbed stairs at random, thinking he might go up to the Room of Requirement and try to sleep longer when he passed Professor McGonagall hurrying down a corridor.

"Oh, Mr. Potter!" she cried, "I was hoping to find you. Come with me."

Clad in only his pajamas, Harry followed.

"The guard has spotted what they think might be Severus Snape entering his home," McGonagall told him as they turned a corner.

"What?" asked Harry, flabergasted. _Snape_. This _was_ a good day.

"We know he hasn't returned to Voldemort since...since he left the castle," McGonagall told Harry. "Just a few minutes ago, a cloaked figure was seen entering his home by one of the spies we placed there. The Order is going to have a look, and that includes you, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger."

Harry nodded. "I'll run upstairs and change, Professor. Give me five minutes?" She nodded, and Harry ran.

When he reached the dormitory, Ron was drafting copies of a notice for Quidditch Club tryouts. "Ron!" yelled Harry, "Snape's been spotted! Get Hermione and let's go!" Ron abandoned his posters and ran out of the room. Harry dressed quickly and followed him. They met Hermione in the Common Room and together they raced to the Entrance Hall.

When they arrived, they found most of the Order waiting for them.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall said when they arrived, "Now that you're all here, this is how we are going to do this. We're going to reduct our way into the house, wearing anti-charm clothing" – she gestured to the rack of Shield Hats and Cloaks in the corner - "and we are going to stun anything that moves. We'll make sure to sort it all out later."

Harry nodded along with everyone else. Professor McGonagall produced an old teapot from her robes, and everyone touched a finger to it. A yank behind the navel carried them away.

They landed on a street. It was still dark, and a cold wind was blowing. McGonagall indicated a dark, dreary-looking old house on a nearby corner and said, "Harry, Ron, Hermione, Remus, and Tonks back there please. I'll send up green sparks – blast in and stun anything that moves."

They nodded to show their understanding, then sneaked around to the back of the house, keeping clear of the windows. They stood by the door, waiting, until the green sparks appeared and then -

"REDUCTO!"

All four shouted it – the door blasted away and they entered the house.

All was dark and dank. Harry could see only faintly, but didn't want to give away his location by lighting his wand. He crouched in the entryway to the next room, looking for a sign of movement, trying to open his mind as he had been practicing..

_Stupefy!_ He heard in his mind and he ducked an instant before the jet of red light would have hit him. All the practical study hadn't hurt him at all – he instinctively and silently cast a shield, then a disarming spell, and then whispered "Stupefy!" - he couldn't quite do the Stunning Spell silently yet.

The first spell missed, but the second one hit it's target, and a second later he heard a _thud_ from someone collapsing to the floor.

In a nearby room, he heard the voice of McGonagall yelling, "That's it!" and then Remus Lupin lighted his wand.

The figure on the floor came into view. He was a tall man, with greasy hair and a hooked nose – Severus Snape.

As if the capture of Snape wasn't enough, upon their return to Hogwarts he was met by Susan Bones.

"Harry," she said without preamble, "you know how you're always telling us in the DA to tell you if we ever think we see something in Voldemort's plans? Well, I think I've noticed something."

Harry, had, indeed, been telling the DA to do exactly that. However, right then what he really wanted was some breakfast. "What's up?" he asked her.

"I have sort of an inkling what he's doing," said Susan, "but I couldn't tell you why."

"What is it?" Harry asked, pulling her into the empty Great Hall and sitting down.

"Well," said Susan, "You know my family stretches back to Helga Hufflepuff? It's always been kind of fascinating to me, and, genealogy is kind of my hobby. Anyway, I was reading through an old book about the legacies of the founders of Hogwarts, and it mentioned a cup passed down Helga Hufflepuff's family line. I guess the closest family member to Helga gets the cup – not that anyone's that close any more, but still – and they can activate a spell to obtain the cup for themselves at any time."

Harry immediately knew that this was the right track.

"That's not even the weird part," continued Susan. "Most old families have herilooms with something like that attached to them – it was kind of a fad for a while. The weird part is that lately, the members of my family who have access to the spell always seem to get killed."

"Killed?"

"Yes. My parents are next, and then me."

"Madam Bones...she was your aunt, right?"

"And there was an older brother who was killed with his whole family during the first war. And Dad always said he was nutty for old spells – he worked for Gringotts as a treasure hunter."

Harry thought very rapidly. "Come with me. Now." He ran upstairs to McGonagall's office. She was just outside.

"Professor! You have to get Susan's parents here, now. They are in danger." When McGonagall hesitated, Harry looked right into her eyes. "Do it! I can explain, but not until it's done."

"Return to your dormitories," McGonagall said. For a moment, Harry panicked, and then she continued, "I will come for you when I'm done." She swept off toward the stairs.

"Thank you," said Susan.

"No problem. When you can, will you ask if your dad will meet with me?"

"Of course. I'd better go – she wont' be able to find me if I'm not in my common room." Susan ran off.

Harry decided to skip breakfast and head back to bed.

The feast was a typical gathering for Hogwarts, if somewhat smaller than normal. And the addition of Mr. And Mrs. Bones – who, it was announced, would be staying at the castle indefinitely, was the main subject of gossip.

Although the food was excellent, Harry's mind kept wandering to that afternoon.

He and Ginny had been playing chess when McGonagall arrived in the Common Room. She pulled Harry aside.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bones are here. Why?"

"They can get the cup I've been looking for," Harry told her. "Voldemort's killed everyone who can get it eventually – probably because they kept getting it from him, so he killed them to take it back. They're next in line."

"Will you tell me why you need it?"

"Just that Voldemort has a – a weakness to it."

"That will do for now. Now, about Snape -"

"What now?"

"He has been awakened, and given Veritaserum. However, when we tried to question him, it was obvious that he has created and taken an antidote. Professor Sinistra has declined to examine him with Legilimency, but I was wondering if you felt comfortable."

"Not yet." Harry wasn't sure he could ever do that with Snape.

"Very well, we will hold him for now. I shall see you tonight, Mr. Potter." She nodded to Harry and Ginny, then left.

At the feast, Harry was introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Bones. Mr. Bones told Harry he was unaware of anything to do with the cup, but he promised to look into it.

That night, Harry lay in bed, finally able to sleep without worrying he was getting nothing done. It was nice to be able to rest.


	13. The Wait

**While we're waiting, I'm gonna play.**

**It's just play, not high-tech robbery.**

**A/N: In Harry Potter circles, this is known to some as Whodunit Thirteen. I have, in trying to keep with JKR's tradition, made the main mystery make an appearance here. Also in keeping with JKR's tradition, I doubt anyone will see it for what it is. If you think you do, please let me know so I can make it harder.**

Things didn't proceed in quite so orderly a manner after that.

While it was true that Mr. Bones _could_ obtain the cup whenever he wanted, he had no idea how to do it, and Harry's own research wasn't leading to any clues, either.

To make matters worse, his work was beginning to drive him mad. Hours spent in the library reading auction inventories and "tell all" books about the Founders written by grandsons of cousins of their children that held only vague hints about Gryffindor's possessions all being destroyed – _except his sword_, thought Harry – but him leaving behind "a possession more precious than any mere _thing_.

This statement was more confusing every time he read it.

The most frightening thing about the confusion was how pervasive it was. It seeped into everything he did. When he studied, it distracted him. He dreamed of the fates of ancient artifacts and of destroyed Horcruxes coming back to haunt him. Once he dreamed of drowning Snape in his cauldron.

Only two things kept him going – Ron's Quidditch club, and the D.A.

Ron had ended up organizing two teams out of the eighteen students, with himself captaining one and Luna, of all people, captaining the other (She had told them, quite seriously, that playing Quidditch was an excellent way to avoid being accosted by eblefrigles. Although no one knew what an eblefrigle was, no one questioned this statement either.) Ron's team held practices twice a week, and they played twice a month. It wasn't the same as it had been, but it was a good distraction.

The D.A. Was also busy. The students were all learning defensive magic, and his select group (Neville, Luna, Ernie, Susan, Ginny, Colin, and Dennis) were working on offensive spells as well. Most of Harry's "free" time was spent plannign their lessons, but he didn't mind – it was the one place he felt hew as truly making a difference.

It was mid-November when Neville heard Harry and Hermione arguing about their next step.

"Harry, you know what it means!" Hermione was saying, pointing to a large book. "It means the Lestranges had..." she trailed off when she saw Neville. "Er...hello, Neville."

Harry braced himself for what he knew would happen next. He wasn't disappointed. "Neville..." he trailed off, unsure if he should proceed.

"What about the Lestranges?" Neville asked.

"They have some information we need, that's all," replied Hermione.

"Oh," said Neville, "Glad to know I'm not out of the loop."

"Listen, Neville," said Harry, "you can't help us with this. Best to just let it be -"

But Neville was having none of it. "They ruined my family!" he yelled.

Harry and Hermione couldn't think of anything to say to that. Finally, Harry did the only thing he could – he told the truth.

Partly.

"Voldemort wanted to collect a trophy from each Hogwarts founder," he told Neville. "The Lestranges had one since...well, it was an heirloom that had once belonged to Ravenclaw. Anyway, we want the book, just because...we do."

He knew Neville could be trusted, but it still seemed like the wrong time to tell him what was going on, and Harry had learned to trust those instincts.

Neville glared at Harry. "Glad to know you're not hiding anything. Now that I know the whole story, I don't feel like such an idiot," he said.

Harry didn't know what to say – not that it really would have mattered. Neville was irate.

"I trust you, Harry," he said, "but I have the right to know."

"I know you do," said Harry, "but it's _awfully_ damn convenient. I don't _know_ anything." Hermione tried to interrupt at this point, but he silenced her with a look. "I'll tell you when I know something we can actually use," Harry promised.

Neville still didn't look happy, but... "Okay."

November turned into December and nothing new was found. Voldemort and his followers attacked fifteen more times, at least twice a week. Stories circulated that raids were being conducted on the homes of Ministry workers, and the Weasleys were forced to move into Hogwarts for their own protection. Bill and Fleur were at the school most of the time, too.

One day, about a week before Christmas, Harry showed up at an Order meeting with Ron and Hermione only to find that they were the only ones there. Just when they were beginning to worry, Arthur Weasley Flooed into the room.

"Hi, kids!" he said cheerfully. "I just came to let you know there was another attack today."

Harry couldn't see what he had to be so cheerful about.

"No one on our side was hurt," continued Arthur, which explained the cheerfulness. "Just a few destroyed porking meters. And no Muggle wittnesses. We repaired the porking meters already and now we're just imprisoning the Death Eaters that were captured. I asked the Order to come help, but Molly wouldn't hear of you three being involved. I just came back to tell you that Amycus and Alecto Meers are dead, and so is Garfield Goyle. Oh, and that snake of Voldemort's."

"Nagini?" asked Harry.

"Exactly," replied Mr. Weasley.

Ron broke into a grin.

"Well, said Mr. Weasley, "I need to get back. We'll have the meeting tomorrow." He flooed away.

"Excellent!" cried Ron, "That's easy – goodbye to Horcrux Number Two!"

"But why was the snake even there?" asked Hermione.

"Doesn't matter," said Ron, "it's dead. We should celebrate. Quidditch, anyone?"

Neither of them noticed Harry's momentary frown.


	14. Portrait

**Someday I'll write something this good and actually own it. Today is not that day. Don't sue me.**

The next day, Harry's research led him to Summoning Charms activated by blood magic. The book he was reading was old and full of unfamiliar words, and he was easily confused by it's content. Eventually, he decided to go for a walk and clear his head – and found himself walking by Professor McGonagall's office.

The door was open.

Automatically, Harry climbed onto the moving staircase and rode to the top. Without thinking, he entered the office.

McGonagall wasn't there. But, sleeping with all the other headmasters and headmistresses on the walls was Albus Dumbledore.

Once again, Harry saw Dumbledore fall from the tower to the ground. And, finally, he was able to ask the question, "Why?"

Dumbldore was looking at him.

It was not the same stare that Harry remembered. It didn't seem to look through him, or seep into his soul. But it did remind him of Dumbledore. Vaguely.

"How are you, Harry?"

Harry didn't know what to say. He had never talked to the dead, except in brief moments. This was different. "Fine," he finally muttered.

"I hope," said Dumbledore, "that you were able to destroy it."

"Yes, sir," said Harry. He didn't go into more detail. "But there are still three more."

"You will find them," said Dumbledore. "I have faith in you."

"Why?" asked Harry. "How can you have faith in me? I'm just..." he didn't know how to finish that thought.

"You are stronger than you know," replied Dumbledore.

"Tell me how to end it," said Harry, "and I will."

"I don't know," replied Dumbledore, "but you do. You will know."

"How do I figure it out?"

"How did you destroy the diary?"

"I just knew."

"You will just know."

"Professor," Harry asked after a moment, "can I ask you something?"

"You may ask me one more thing," said Dumbledore.

"What did 'Nitwit, Blubber, Oddment, Tweak' mean?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore, "that was something my own Headmaster said at my first Hogwarts feast. It...seemed appropriate."

The portrait smiled, and Harry found himself grinning too.

That night, after the D.A. Meeting, Luna stayed behind.

"Harry," she asked, "Voldemort's done it, hasn't he?"

"Probably," Harry replied, not having a clue what Luna was talking about.

"He's using some kind of Dark Magic to enchant objects to keep himself alive. That 's why you need those things you keep asking about – you're trying to un-enchant them so you can kill him. That's why you keep spending so much time in the library. To destroy the objects you'll have to use powerful magic. Magic you don't know."

For a glorified conspiracy theorist, Luna was spot on sometimes. "How did you...?"

"I'm not in Ravenclaw for nothing," Luna replied primly. Correctly guessing his next question, she added, "I won't tell."

Harry nodded.

Luna walked to him and kissed his cheek. "You're very brave, Harry," she said solemnly, before turing and wandering out the door, whistling "Weasley is our King" to herself.


	15. Preparations

**If I were to close my eyes and wish I had rights to Harry Potter, it still wouldn't be true.**

**One of Harry's lines is the last spoken line in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. See if you can spot it. **

The Christmas Holidays began wet and dreary, but snowless, two days later. Instead of spending Christmas at the Burrow like last year, this year Harry would be staying at the castle with all the Weasleys and Hermione.

As the hols progressed, it got colder, until finally it snowed on Christmas Morning. Harry woke up, as usual, to find Ron already tearing open his presents.

_The more things change,_ thought Harry, _the more they stay the same. _He grinned at his won nostalgia and dug into his presents.

After a wonderful day, including snowball fights, wizard crackers, and Christmas carols, they returned to the dormitories and went to bed happy.

The next day, he learned that Voldemort had celebrated too. He had killed hundreds of Muggles in an "earthquake" that collapsed a church. And so Harry made a point of spending the rest of the holidays making more of an effort to be ready for the battle.

The last time he had faced Voldemort, Voldemort had tortured him, read his mind, and possessed him. He couldn't do much about the torture, but the mind reading and the possession were certainly fixable. All he had to do was learn to shield his mind from outsiders.

"Concentrate!" Professor Sinistra told him, "and..now!"

Harry braced himself as a barrage of images pounded on his mind. But although he could see the images, he refused to allow them into his head.

"Excellent!" cried the Professor. "Much better!"

Of all his teachers, Professor Sinistra remained the most enigmatic. She was a middle-aged witch, wearing a lot of black, and she never talked about herself. She attacked his mental shields with images from the minds of those around her that she had picked up, and although he could penetrate her mental walls, there was nothing inside that he had seen that was of a very personal nature.

"I think you may be ready," she told him.

"Ready?" asked Harry.

"For Snape."

Harry did not feel ready.

"At the very least," she continued, "there is nothing more I can teach you."

"But..." began Harry.

"Mr. Potter, although I have a great sympathy for what you will be facing, I really cannot help any more than I already have. You are as ready as I can get you, and I am as qualified as anyone you will find at the school at this time. Simply speaking, this will have to do."

That was it. The lesson was over. There was a note of finality in her voice that Harry knew meant he would never have to deal with this again.

"Thank you," he told her, and he left her office for the last time.

Harry did not feel the least bit ready. He walked back to the Common Room, frowning.

_Interrogate Snape_, he thought. _Go to Snape, read his mind, and come up with answers._

It sounded simple enough.

_Did Snape kill Dumbledore for Voldemort, or did he do it for Dumbledore?_

Harry didn't know that he wanted to know the answer.

_What if Dumbledore left a message? With Snape?_

Of course he hadn't. If he had, Snape would have shouted it to him as Harry chased him from the grounds.

_What if he told Snape something about the Horcruxes. Like why Voldemort would allow one to get killed._

It was a strange problem. Nagini should never have been in that battle. As a strategy, it made no sense.

And yet.

Harry was still mulling it over when he arrived back at the Common Room.

"What's up?" asked Ron from his seat by the fire.

"Just wondering," replied Harry. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the letter in Ron's hand.

"It's just a brochure. McGonagall gave it to me. It's about coaching Quidditch."

"That would be perfect for you after graduation. You should go for it, mate."

Ron looked doubtful. "What about being Aurors?"

Harry shrugged. "You should do what you want, Ron. This war won't go on forever, and then...won't you want out of it?"

"How can I get out of it? It always finds us."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Still, if it stopped finding us...what would you want?"

"I suppose," said Ron slowly, "That I'd want to play Quidditch."

"Then you should," said Harry.

"What about you?" asked Ron. "Have you had a meeting with McGonagall about this yet?"

Harry shook his head. "It's scheduled for next week." He felt the need to change the subject. "Ron, I've been thinking about Nagini."

"What about her?"

"Does it seem odd to you? That she was there?"

Ron frowned. "I suppose. It's a bit like sending your king into the middle of the board, you know? A snake can't defend itself. It can't do much of anything. So, if it's crucial to you, why send it into battle? But, Harry, Voldemort's a nutter. We can't expect him to act logically."


	16. Hufflepuff

**Go ahead. Sue me. Like I have anything to take. Also, I'm not trying to take anything from you, so you'll just look like a big bully.**

**But, hey, if you must.**

**It's not mine. And I'll stick to that story, even if they question us seperately.**

**Oh, and I might have stolen the gist of Fred and George's scene from the pilot of Veronica Mars. I love that show.**

**Now, about the winner of the "Cup Contest". My friend JT and I were talking on the phone last night, and he said, "I just couldn't come up with anything. I mean, what am I supposed to say, 'Have a insert the solution here?'" **

**So, of course, my response was, "That's brilliant! I'm gonna use it!"**

**Thank you, JT. You rock. You are not uncool in any way and you win the grand prize of my eternal respect.**

One day in mid-February, Mr. Bones approached Harry after dinner.

"You seem to know something about what I'm on to," he said.

"What are you on to?" asked Harry. He could feel excitement filling him, almost like he knew what was coming.

Mr. Bones pulled Harry aside, into the shadows under the stairs in the entrance hall. "Professor McGonagall brought some of our things here, including the box of my sister's personal effects. One of the items in the box was a record book of our family with instructions for passing all the heirlooms to the next of kin. There's a spell, you speak it, and it summons them all to you."

It sounded good so far. Harry said so.

"So the problem is that two of my siblings died within two weeks of receiving this book."

Harry nodded. This was a problem. At this precise moment, Ron wandered by.

"Harry, what're you..." he began when he saw Harry behind the stairs, but Harry ducked out and pulled him under with them.

"We need a more private hiding place," he said. "Come on."

Ron, Harry, and Mr. Bones headed upstairs to what had been Snape's office the year before. It was empty of everything now, and Harry shut the door. No one would want to come in here.

Harry repeated what Mr. Bones had told him to Ron. Ron frowned.

"So if we do this, Voldemort will know what happened. It must have happened before."

"And there are still some people here who might be persuaded to give up the teeny piece of information that the Bonses are staying in the castle," added Harry.

"And if Mr. Bones summons the cup, You-Know-Who will think the Order is onto him. He'll attack."

The situation did look grim. Both Harry and Ron knew that if Voldemort realized what they were doing, he would increase whatever the guard was on the Ravenclaw horcrux, and maybe realize that the Slytherin horcrux and the ring had been taken.

The prospects were fairly dismal.

A week later, Ron and Harry were heading to the Order meeting when Ron turned to Harry suddenly and said, "You-Know-Who doesn't seem to be keeping too close an eye on the other Horcruxes, does he?"

Harry thought about it. Voldemort had given away the diary, and he hadn't even noticed that the locket and the ring were gone yet. "I suppose not. But they were still guarded."

"But, since the cup is the only one he seems to be watching...What if no one was watching? Say, next time there's an attack or whatever? Maybe he won't even notice?"

"I think eventually he'll see that it's missing, Ron."

"Not if we put it back."

The audacity of that statement was incredible. "How do we do that?"

Ron grinned. "Simple."

Although they were technically allowed to leave the school at any time, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had never felt the need. Until now.

The next morning, they donned their cloaks and walked to the road into Hogsmeade, where they could Apparate away to Diagon Alley. One loud pop later, they were in front of Fred and George's shop.

Diagon Alley was nearly deserted. Only a few stores seemed to be open, and only Weasley's Wizard Wheezes seemed to be doing any business at all at the moment, which was too bad, because Harry did not want to be seen.

Thankfully, Hermione had put the Invisibility cloak in her bag, and she now threw it over Harry. "Ron and I won't really get that much attention," she whispered.

They walked quietly toward the shop, opened the door, and stepped inside.

The shop was virtually unchanged from the year before. The shelves were nearly bare, though probably not from lack of merchandise. Fred and George were busy with customers, but looked up and saw Ron and Hermione. Fred finished what he was doing and ran over to them.

"Brilliant! We need some demonstration testers for our new round of Skiving Snackboxes – The Cramping Capsules. Hermione, would you mind maybe..."

"Later," whispered Harry. "We need a favor."

"This is so cool," muttered George.

"Wicked," more like, chimed in Fred.

"How long will it take?" asked Ron, "because we don't have forever."

"Well, we could set you up now, but it would be better if we had some time. More efficient. Smaller. All that stuff," replied George thoughtfully.

"And remember," said Harry, "you can't breathe a word to anyone."

This was the part that worried him most.

"No problem, mate," said Fred, "It's not like we need any more people coming after us. Anyway, Ginny and her Bat-Bogey Hex would be firmly on your side."

Ron went back to Diagon Alley alone five days later after George cornered him in an Order meeting with a terse, "It's ready."

He returned to Hogwarts carrying a small bag, which he handed to Harry in their dormitory when they were alone. "We'll need this when we go," he told Harry.

They approached Mr. Bones the next day about the possibility of taking "a little trip" to get the cup. Mr. Bones wanted to do it there, but Harry was sure that was a bad idea. He didn't want anything traceable to Hogwarts, just in case.

So after breakfast, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Mr. Bones walked down to the gate, and each of them grabbed firmly onto Harry's hand. With a very uncomfortable squish, they were standing in the graveyard in Little Hangleton.

Harry ran, with Ron and Hermione, down the hill toward a path he knew a wizard named Bob Ogden had walked more than fifty years ago. He followed it past the cottage where Merope Gaunt had grown up to a grove of trees that was hidden from view of the town, and also of the large mansion on the hill above.

They sat on the ground in a circle, and Harry turned to Mr. Bones. "Now," he said.

Ron nodded, and Harry pulled out the bag. "Okay," said Ron, "here goes."

He tapped a small black box labeled with a number one with his wand, and it flew away toward the house. When it was about twenty feet from impacting with the third floor, it suddenly and silently exploded, blasting a could of Peruvian instant-darkness powder into the air, sealing the doors, and casting an Unbreakable Charm on the house.

Whoever was inside was now trapped inside.

Ron got out two more small green boxes and set them in a row on the ground. He turned to Mr. Bones. "Ten minutes until they can see again, at the very least," he said. "You need to hurry."

Mr. Bones nodded. "Recupare," he muttered, and suddenly he was surrounded by a huge pile of...well, _stuff._

Ron groaned. "We have to sort through all this?" he asked.

"Don't whine, Ronald," snapped Hermione. "Hurry!" she began digging through the pile, looking for a cup.

It was Mr. Bones who found the cup they were looking for. It was exactly as Harry remembered it, right down to the large, ornamental, 'H' inscribed on the side.

There were nine minutes left.

"Okay," said Ron, "now what?"

They stared at the cup.

Nothing occurred to Harry.

When there were eight minutes left, Hermione decided to start reciting every charm she knew that might have the power to destroy an object the size of the cup.

When there were seven minutes and fifty-two seconds, Ron told her to be quiet.

At seven minutes and forty seconds, Hermione told Ron he was an idiot.

Ron shut up and glared with seven minutes and fifteen seconds remaining.

Harry continued to stare at the cup. Despite what Dumbledore's portrait had said, he didn't have a clue what to do with the thing.

"We could melt it," said Ron.

"What?"

"It's a cup. Cups contain liquids. We could...I dunno...melt it."

Harry considered. "It doesn't sound right."

"How about we smash it?" asked Hermione. "It worked last time."

"Smash it with what?" asked Harry. The cup did not look easily smashable.

"Well," said Ron, "what're we supposed to do? Snake venom? Dragon tooth? Have one of those plants that kills you when it cries cry at it?

Hermione frowned. "You know, Ron, that's not a bad idea," she said. "If we put the cup right in front of the Mandrake's mouth, the cries should be loud enough to eradicate anything that's remotely living."

There were six minutes left.

Ron grinned. "Really?" he asked. "I was joking!"

Hermione glared at him. "Hurry!" she said. "Apparate back to the school and get us a Mandrake and some earmuffs!"

Ron stood up, turned in place, and popped away.

Harry, Hermione, and Mr. Bones were left with nothing to do but wait and listen to the sound of Death Eaters bumping into walls in the nearby house, waiting for Ron to return.

He returned with two minutes left, panting and carrying a potted plant with purple leaves and four pairs of earmuffs, which he quickly handed out to everyone present. When he was convinced that no one could hear, he pulled the plant out, exposing the baby at the root.

The baby began screaming. Immediately, several birds fell from a nearby tree and landed on the ground nearby. Ron put the cup in front of the Mandrake's mouth, and it began to shake. For a second it flashed with a yellow light, and then it was still.

Ron shoved the baby back into the pot and recovered it with dirt off the ground. When the vibrations of the baby's screams stopped, he gave them all the thumbs up and re-covered the pot.

There were thirty seconds left until the Instant Darkness Powder Mega-Bomb wore off.

Ron quickly used a Sticking Charm to attach the cup to box number two and then poked the box with his wand. The disappeared with a small pop.

Next he poked box number three, which rocketed off toward the house, shooting sparks behind it. When it impacted, it exploded with the force of a small bomb, casting a Memory Charm on everyone inside and lifting the Unbreakable and Sealing charms on the house.

He turned back to the others. "Let's go."

They walked down the hill until they could no longer see the house, and then Apparated back to the school.


	17. Questioning Snape

**This story does not belong to me. I never said it did. I'm just borrowing it to play with for a while, because I like it very very much.**

**A/N: This chapter has been very difficult, and it has gone through many versions. Some of you will feel gypped. I'm sorry about that. Some will be happy. I'm sorry about that too. I cannot pander to everyone, and I have to stay true to myself and what makes the most sense for my own take on the story.**

**In other words, if you don't like it, tough cookies.**

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

In the days following the destruction of the Hufflepuff horcrux, Harry and Hermione were treated to an extensive lecture by Ron, who was determined to toot his own horn as much as possible. As they sat in the common room, Ron was determined not to let them forget that _he_, Ronald Weasley, had destroyed one seventh of the soul of the most evil wizard who ever lived.

"And then," Ron told them for the billionth time, "I just started running off everything I could think of that had any kind of power, and before I knew it, _bam!_ I had the answer."

"Oh, Ron," said Hermione impatiently, "it was a _joke!_"

Ron scowled. "But it was a useful joke, wasn't it? I destroyed the Horcrux, didn't I?"

"And twelve birds."

"What was I supposed to do? Get a bunch of little birdy earmuffs?"

"You could have cast a silencing charm."

"Hermione, they were birds. They were casualties of war."

"I'm just saying you could have been more careful."

"Okay!" Harry finally cried. "Enough. What is _with_ you two lately? You can't stop fighting long enough for us to have one peaceful evening by the fire! I'm getting sick of it. Either get along, or don't talk. And Hermione, Ron can talk about it if he wants."

"Well, maybe I don't want to hear it!" she snapped, stomping away.

"What's with her?" asked Ron, looking confused.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Professor McGonagall was always the last to leave Order meetings at night, probably because she had so much on her plate. The mysterious happenings at Voldemort's hideout had not gone completely unnoticed, and she was worried about what it might mean. Harry was reluctant to tell the Order what they had done, and the others had followed his lead.

After the meeting the next week, Harry approached McGonagall when everyone had left the room. She looked up, smiling tiredly. "Can I help you, Mr. Potter?"

"I'm ready to question Snape," replied Harry.

In reality, he didn't feel ready at all. But he didn't feel unready either, and that was probably as good as it was ever going to get. And he wanted it done with. Soon.

McGonagall nodded. "I'll have him brought to his former office. It's sealed with some very advanced magic. We'll make sure that you're the only one that can leave the room once the door is shut. Can you be there in one hour?"

"Yes," replied Harry. One hour. He could make it.

He turned and left the room.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Fifty-nine minutes later, Harry arrived in the corridor, shaking. He stood outside the door to the office, which was standing open. Snape was lying inside, Stunned and bound. He looked as thin and pale as usual, and showed no signs of mistreatment. Vaguely, Harry felt that this was a shame.

He knocked. Moody clomped over to the door from where he had been standing, out of sight. "What is the form of your Patronus?" he asked Harry.

"A stag," replied Harry. "Can I come in now?" Moody nodded.

Entering the room, Harry was able to see that a chair had been set up across from the table on which Snape lay. He sank into it. "I'll need to be alone with him," he said.

This was not strictly true, but Harry didn't want to do this in front of anyone else.

"Good luck, boy," said Moody quietly as he limped out of the room.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry took a deep breath. "_Ennervate_." he whispered, and Snape's eyes opened. He blinked.

As his brain caught up with his surroundings, he took in Harry. "_This_ is the best they could do?" he asked. "The Order must be in worse shape than I thought."

Harry really didn't want to deal with Snape's verbal comments during this process. The mental ones would be bad enough. _Silencio_, he thought, jabbing his wand in Snape's direction.

Snape opened his mouth to speak again and found he couldn't. His look became more appraising.

_Obviously, your skills have progressed from abysmal to barely adequate._ The words hung in Harry's mind, and yet they did not penetrate inside. Snape was trying to access Harry's mind, and he could not get in.

Harry waited in silence, and kept the surface of his mind totally blank. He would not crack now.

_Your patience is not notable, Potter. Eventually you will not be able to resist asking me a question._

Harry knew that eventually he'd being asking. But for now he was content to listen.

_What will that question be? Why did I pretend to be on Dumbledore's side? What are the names of the Death Eaters I know? How did I fool Dumbledore? I know. Why didn't I just kill Dumbledore when Malfoy failed the first time?_

Harry remained silent.

_Or perhaps you'd like to know where Malfoy is now? I assure you, I am unaware of his location. He Apparated to somewhere entirely different from where I apparated to, and that' s all I know._

Harry was sure Snape was telling the truth about that. It sounded just like Malfoy.

_Or perhaps you would like to know if the Dark Lord knows the full details of that prophecy. I am sorry to say he does not. If I were aware of them, he would. But Dumbledore was not kind enough to let me in on that little secret._

If Voldemort could have got the contents of the prophecy from Snape, he would never have tried to get the prophecy from the Ministry two years before. This whole topic was pointless.

_We can do this forever, Potter. I'm not going anywhere._

Snape was not going to provide more information. Harry decided to take the initiative. _Whose idea was it for you to kill Dumbledore? Yours or his?_

Snape's eyes narrowed. _Neither, actually. It was Narcissa Malfoy. She wanted to be sure that Draco would be protected._

Harry had already known that. Malfoy had said as much on the rooftop. _I know about the Vow you made. I don't care. I mean on that rooftop. You and Dumbledore communicated through Legilimency. Who told you to kill him that night? What were you willing to do?_

_Clearly, I underestimated your intelligence, Potter._

That was as close to a compliment as Snape had ever given Harry. _Very distracting. Whose idea was it?_

_Do you want an answer?_

_Yes._

_Really?_

_Yes._

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry was back on the rooftop. Dumbledore looked at Snape with pleading eyes. "Severus..."

The sound of Dumbledore pleading was still frightening. But for the first time, Harry could see it from a different perspective. He wasn't pleading for his life. He was trying to get Snape to look at him.

Snape pushed his way through Amycus, and Alecto, and Fenrir Greyback.

Dumbledore and Snape locked eyes. The beam of light shot between them, and Harry was pulled inside it.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Inside the beam of light, Snape and Dumbledore were standing in a round, white room.

"You alone know my secret," said Dumbledore. "You know what I am hiding, and why it can never be known."

Snape nodded.

"If Voldemort finds out, that will be the end of it," said Dumbledore. "None of the last sixteen years, at least, will happen. Can you allow that?"

Snape continued to stare at Dumbledore for a minute, and then he shook his head. "No."

"You can save us all," added Dumbledore. "All you have to do is kill me before Voldemort's potion controls me."

"You can't ask this of me," whispered Snape. "I will be outcast from both sides."

"I can," replied Dumbledore, "because the alternative is for Voldemort to have free reign over everything. I know you never wanted that."

"I won't kill you. I can't."

"You have to. You have always known it would happen this way. Ever since I told you the truth."

"I know."

"Let the circle continue unbroken, Severus."

HPHPHPHPHPHP

The light faded. Dumbledore and Snape's gazes still locked, and Snape looked at Dumbledore with a look of pure hatred.

"Severus...please..."

"_Avada Kedavra._"

HPHPHPHPHPHP

"Snape cannot be trusted," Harry told Professor McGonagall, "because his loyalty was not to our cause or to Voldemort's. It was to Dumbledore. Whatever connection he had to our side, it's broken now.

"Why would he kill Dumbledore?" asked Professor McGonagall.

Harry had considered trying to pry that information out of Snape's mind, but he couldn't see himself violating Dumbledore's last secret. Sometimes it seemed that Dumbledore's constant secrets were all that was left of the greatest wizard the world had ever seen. "He killed Dumbledore," Harry said finally, "because Dumbledore was dying."


	18. Darkness In Our Midst

**Someday I'll create something this cool. Until then, just let me play with someone else's toys. I'm not stealing them, and I don't want them for my own. I just want to play.**

**A/N: This chapter is hard to even conceive of writing, and while I feel that it needs to be done, I never felt very capable of doing it before I started. Some of it contains things that may be disturbing to some readers, and I hope that it provides both food for thought and something resembling entertainment.**

HPHPHPHPHPHP

By March, things had gotten so strained between Hermione and Ron that Harry almost wished for the days of their third year when they had just stopped speaking completely. Both of them seemed reluctant to make it official, and they were both miserable.

The few times that all three of them would try to do something together, Hermione and Ron would invariably end up in a fight, and one of them would end up just walking away. As time wore on, Hermione became less of a fixture when Harry was doing anything with Ron, and, try as he might, Harry couldn't seem to bring her back.

Ron said it was almost like she'd stopped being their friend but hadn't really gotten around to telling them yet. She ate alone, studied alone, and refused to speak to them more often than not about what she was doing.

At some points, she simply sat and stared into space wherever she was – in the common room, the library, at a meal with a bite of food halfway to her mouth. For some reason, no one was aloud to talk to her when she was like this – she'd simply start yelling at them for disturbing her.

Although Harry was sure that something needed to be done about this, he wasn't really sure what to do. Hermione, he felt, would come back to the fold when she was good and ready, and he didn't know how to push her or if he should. Ron just tended toward misery, although, when asked, he would deny it.

Several times Ginny or Luna had tried to talk to Hermione, but without success. She simply was not interested in help, or friends, or anything outside what she was reading or whatever she might be thinking about.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

The school was eerily quiet these days. Most of the time, in the past, there had been the constant background noise of eight hundred kids doing spells, yelling, and generally causing trouble. Now, walking down the corridors in near silence, punctuated only by the sound of Peeves breaking something or Mrs. Norris meowing in boredom, it was downright infuriating.

Harry missed the school the way it had been. He missed his life the way it had been, too, before Voldemort returned and any chance he'd had for normalcy had scattered in the winds. As time wore on without the slightest hint of what Ravenclaw's Horcrux could be, he had more and more time to brood. He missed...

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"

The scream startled him. Ron, who was walking next to Harry, jumped about a foot in the air. "What was that?" he asked.

"I don't know," replied Harry, "but I bet someone's hurt."

They ran toward the noise, which did not repeat. Soon they reached a fork in the corridor. There were two options – turn left, or go straight.

"Where now?" asked Ron.

"Straight," replied Harry.

"How do you know."

"Well, otherwise we'd be standing here all day. We've got to try something."

They picked up the pace and ran again, straight down the hall. It wasn't long before Harry realized that they were in the same unused area of the school that the Mirror of Erised had been kept in six years before. What was going on?

Eventually they arrived at the end of the hallway, surrounded by closed doors. "What do you think?" asked Ron.

Harry was about to answer when he heard a voice coming from behind one of them – Hermione's voice.

The word she spoke filled him with dread.

"_Crucio!_"

He was gripping Ron's arm. How could she? What was she thinking?

There were no sounds from inside, so either no one was actually being tortured or there was a silencing charm at work. The voice had come from a door to his right, and Ron nodded at it. The message was clear - "open it."

They did, despite not really wanting to know what they would see inside.

Hermione was standing over a body on the floor. They couldn't see who it was – the face was hidden behind a table from their view at the door. Hermione had not yet noticed their presence – she was standing next to the table, and while they could not see her face, they could see her body shaking with sobs.

"What in the bloody hell are you _doing!_" shouted Ron.

Hermione turned to face them, and her face was streaked with tears. "Go away!" she cried.

"No!" replied Harry, "We heard you a minute ago. We can't let you do whatever you're doing to..." he moved slightly so he could see the face of who she was attacking. "Neville."

Neville was curled into a ball, his eyes wide. "Hermione..." Ron muttered, "Blimey."

"Hermione," said Harry, "give me your wand. I don't know what you're doing, but it's going to stop. Give me your wand or I will stun you."

Hermione, shaking, gave him the wand. "I was only trying to end this," she said. "I wanted you to get on with your life."

Harry wasn't sure how torturing Neville with the Cruciatus Curse would help, but he let it pass for now.

"Ron," he said, "take her out of here."

Ron stepped forward and took Hermione's hand. "Come on," he whispered, and pulled her away.

"Take her up to the room of Requirement," added Harry, "and keep here there until I come."

The door closed and they were gone. Harry ran over to Neville. "Neville?" he asked, "are you all right?"

"Yeah," replied Neville, sitting up. "I think so."

"Do you want me to get Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," said Neville, "I don't want that. I just need to think."

"Do you know why she did it?" Harry asked, trying to understand what had happened.

"Yeah, I think so," replied Neville. "She thought I might have some kind of hidden memories – memories protected under a Memory Charm. I think she thought she could torture them out of me."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. _Hermione, _the girl who had been so militant about rules she had once sneaked out of bed in the middle of the night to see that Harry and Ron didn't sneak out, had decided to torture someone for information they didn't even have? Where had this come from?

"The weird thing," said Neville, "is that I think it actually worked."

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Neville had asked for some time to gather his thoughts, and Harry had left him to it, making him promise to see Madam Pomfrey. He didn't ask if Neville was planning to tell her what had happened to him, and Neville didn't volunteer what his plans were. If he were being honest with himself, Harry admitted, the way he was feeling right then he would have been on Neville's side if he had said something to someone about what Hermione had done.

He didn't know what had happened to make it come to this, but Harry was beginning to see a pattern in Hermione's actions that he had never noticed before. In their first year at Hogwarts, she had been a bright student, eager to please all her teachers. She had been the one to not only follow the rules to the letter but turn in others who failed to follow those rules. The sad thing was, no one had liked her at all.

Until that run-in with the troll, when he and Ron had saved her life. Somehow, she had come to the conclusion that the best thing to do was lie to protect them from getting in trouble for it, and she had done so, lied straight to McGonagall's face.

Right now, Harry was wishing she had just told McGonagall the truth. After that...well, Hermione had lost something about her. Innocence, maybe, or just honesty. She had started to be the one to encourage rule-breaking. It had been Hermione's idea to brew the Polyjuice Potion illegally, Hermione's idea to capture Rita Skeeter in a glass jar and blackmail her into publishing a story she didn't want to write, Hermione who had Confunded Cormack McLaggen last year just so Ron could get on the Quidditch team...

Really, Harry realized, it had been there all along. He just hadn't seen it.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

When he arrived at the Room of Requirement, he found Ron and Hermione sitting on a couch. Hermione was clinging to Ron, and he had his arms around her. She was still crying.

Ron looked up when Harry walked in. "How's Neville?" Hermione stiffened at Neville's name.

"He's okay," Harry said. "He went to see Madam Pomfrey. I think he'll be fine." He turned to Hermione, who had turned her face toward him. "Hermione..._why_?"

"He knew something," she muttered. "It all fit – the Lestranges attacking his parents. Do you know they left him alive for some reason? I couldn't figure out why, but his memory's always been so bad. I was doing some reading, and I read that Memory Charms can damage the minds of the very young. It seemed so obvious. Neville must have heard something when they attacked his parents. Whyever they couldn't kill him, they couldn't risk someone realizing what he knew when he was old enough. And whatever it was, there was a chance it related to the Horcrux. I had to break that Memory Charm."

"But...Hermione..." said Ron, "Neville's your friend."

"There's no other way!" she cried. "That's the only thing you can do – I looked everywhere! I didn't want to do it, but we needed that information, and there was just no other way to get it."

"Then we should have done without it," said Harry. "We're smart. We could have figured it out in the end. I know you've never been under the Cruciatus, but I have, and trust me when I say I wouldn't wish it on Voldemort himself. There are some powers no decent wizard uses, and you crossed that line." He paused. "Actually, it's partly my fault. You've been doing things for a long time now that aren't really very moral. Rita Skeeter, for example. I just didn't notice how bad it was getting."

"It had to be done," said Hermione.

"Why didn't you tell me what you were up to, at least. I would have talked you out of it."

"I didn't want you in trouble. If you didn't know about it, you couldn't be the one who let it happen."

Harry sighed. "Hermione...whatever happens, don't even think about doing something like this again. There is a reason Voldemort is the one who uses power like that, and a reason we don't. I tried to cast it, too, once, and I don't think I could do it again."

"I couldn't either," whispered Hermione.

Harry didn't know what to say to that. "Good," he finally replied.


	19. The Plot Thickens

**Once again, I don't own it. Jo Rowling does. This is your brain. This is your brain having to repeat the same obvious thought over and over and over. Smash. Any questions?**

Neville, in the end, decided to say nothing. After a few hours in the Room of Requirement, when Hermione had fallen asleep, he showed up and announced that he didn't want to tell anyone, because, in the end, she had helped him, but he didn't know if it wouldn't be safer for her if maybe he said something after all – the Ministry would eventually hunt down someone who was going after people using the Cruciatus Curse, after all. Harry and Ron assured him that they were convinced that Hermione's actions had been a one-time thing, and Neville decided to say nothing so long and Hermione stayed away from him. Neither Harry or Ron could blame him for that condition, even though Harry felt that Neville was being overly generous in his treatment of Hermione.

They spent the next few days trying to keep an eye on Hermione at all times. She was more than willing to keep them around, not seeming to trust herself to do anything without an escort. Neither of them had any reason to believe that she was going to hurt anyone again, but they were alert for signs that she was heading in that direction, just in case. This meant that all three of them were effectively separated from Neville most of the time.

This found them avoiding the areas of the school they had been populating most when Neville was there. They ate before or after most others, went to the library when they knew Neville was busy, and tried to stay outside, where there was plenty of space to avoid each other, during the day.

One day, when they were sitting by the lake, studying, Harry looked up and saw that there was smoke coming from Hagrid's chimney. Abruptly, he realized that in the time since they had been back at Hogwarts, they had not gone to see Hagrid once. He looked over at Ron and Hermione, who were sitting fairly peacefully and decided to make a quick trip alone. "I'll be right back, guys," he said.

His only response was a vague grunt from Ron.

Running quickly, Harry ran across the lawn to the cabin where Hagrid lived. It had been rebuilt since it had been burned down at the end of the previous school year, and looked considerably nicer than it had previously. The building looked newer, and bigger.

Hagrid took a while to answer his door. Harry had almost given up before it creaked open and a huge shaggy head peered out. "Harry?" asked Hagrid, "what're you doin' here?"

"I'm just here to see you," said Harry. "I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Come in," said Hagrid. He opened the door all the way and walked off toward his kitchen.

"It looks good in here," said Harry. When the cabin had been burned, it had barely been standing. Now the whole thing was repaired.

"McGonagall came down the day y'all left to fix it," Hagrid told him. "She put it to rights." He pulled his teakettle out and set it on the stove.

Harry looked around guiltily. How could he have left Hagrid alone all this time? With all the students gone, of course Hagrid would be lonely – the cabin showed signs of inhabitation by more animals than Harry would have believed possible. Not only was there a box of baby Blast-Ended Skrewts, but a cage containing what looked like a cross between a salamander and a chicken, and a few bowtruckles running around the floor snacking on fairly eggs that were liberally strewn around.

"What're you doing with the bowtruckles?" he asked Hagrid, looking for something to say.

"Oh, they're right useful!" Hagrid told him. "It turns out they're one of the easiest animals to crossbreed. An' they can take care of themselves pretty well... it should be interestin' to see what we come up with when I've had a bit o' fun."

Harry repressed a shudder. Bowtruckles weren't exaxtly harmless before they were crossbred with Acromantulas or some other thing, it didn't seem likely that they would be any more pleasant after Hagrid had done whatever he was planning to do.

Hagrid poured out two cups of tea and set them on the table. Harry sat down in front of one of them and ignored the plate of rock cakes in the middle of the table.

"So, Harry," asked Hagrid, "What're you doing tha's kept you from visiting all year?"

Harry stared at his tea akwardly. "Nothing, really," he answered, then felt the need to rephrase that. "A lot of stuff."

"Dumbledore kept his secrets, didn't he?" asked Hagrid. "Always cookin' up something..." he took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Yeah," said Harry, thinking of what he had seen in Snape's mind. "But I think he had a good reason."

Hagrid squinted at him. "I know you won't tell anyone where you were or what you were doin', but you let me know if I can help. I promised him I'd always help him if he asked, and now... if I can help you, you jus' tell me."

Harry looked Hagrid right in his beetle-black eyes and wished for the thousandth time that he didn't have to be doing this at all. "I promise," Hagrid, "if you can help me, I'll let you." He wanted to say more, but he wasn't sure what more there was to say.

Fang, Hagrid's black boarhound, wandered over to Harry and rested his head on Harry's knee, drooling all over his leg like always. "I s'pose," said Hagrid, "That you'll be going after You-Know-Who soon."

Harry nodded silently.

"You shouldn't," Hagrid continued. "S'not your place. Should've been Dumbledore's, but now... maybe McGonagall... Anyway, s'not your job, Harry."

Harry looked down at the table again. "Yes," he whispered, "it is. That's why Dumbledore was taking me along on his mission the night he died. He wanted me to be a part of preparing to kill Voldemort, because it _is_ my job."

Hagrid flinched back as if struck. "Harry... you can't know that. Now, I know yeh've had some bad luck... dunno how he keeps finding you... but you can't think that just because he wants to kill you, yeh'll be the one who has to do it. No, it'll be McGonagall, or maybe Moody."

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to do it...but, Hagrid, there was a prophecy that says I have to." He left out the rest of what the prophecy said. No need to make things worse.

"Says who!" bellowed Hagrid. "You're gonna trust some crackpot who says they heard -"

"Dumbledore," said Harry, looking Hagrid right in the eyes.

Hagrid's face crumpled. "Oh, no," he muttered. "Dumbledore kept his secrets, didn't he." He sighed. "Harry-" he began, but he was cut off when Ginny ran into the hut.

"Hagrid!" she cried. "Oh Harry!" She ran to him and threw her arms around him. "There's just been a Floo from Mum. Voldemort attacked the ministry. It's been completely destroyed."

A/N: This chapter was originally supposed to be much more Hagrid-centric than it has been, but I sort of abandoned that when I realized that it wasn't really coming together. So now we have this, which, I think, is pretty good but kinda short. Now that it's written, I may right a more Hagrid-centered companion piece in the future, because I really don't feel like I've done the character justice.


	20. Ravenclaw

**This story and it's characters are not mine. I don't want them, I just want to play with them, anyway. I'm not trying to do anything that could be sued over, so please don't sue me.**

Harry and Hagrid accompanied Ginny back to the Gryffindor common room, where they spent the next twenty minutes waiting for news. Harry had ducked over to Ron and Hermione, and they had followed them upstairs. The five of them sat and listened to Ginny tell them all how she had been in a lesson with Professor McGonagall when a call had come through from Kingsley Shacklebolt. Kingsley had reported that the Death Eaters were in the Ministry, and that the Order members there were fighting, but it didn't look good. He had then vanished from the fire. McGonagall had wanted Ginny to go for Harry and Ron right away, while Ginny wanted to wait for news. While they were arguing, another call had come in from Tonks. She said that the entire Ministry had been destroyed, and whoever was left standing was trying to sort out the damage and determine the casualties, at which point Ginny had stopped arguing and run to get Hagrid, Harry, and Ron.

The mood in the common room was grim. A large portion of the Order was involved in the Ministry in some way – most of them in the Magical Law Enforcement section, which Voldemort would have wanted to secure right away. Mrs. Weasley arrived in the room ten minutes into their vigil, along with Fred, George, and Bill. She joined them in a chair by the fire, sitting in tense silence. Ginny was unwilling to let go of Harry. Her father and brother were both working in the Ministry. She sat ramrod straight, all of her muscles tense, and clinging to Harry's hand for dear life.

Finally, the portrait opened and a haggard looking Mr. Weasley climbed through. Mrs. Weasley ran to him and flung her arms around him, crying, "Arthur!" He embraced her tightly. Ginny slumped against Harry's shoulder, letting out a breath, and all her brothers broke into grins. For a moment, no one noticed the wizard who climbed in behind Mr. Weasley, and then Mrs. Weasley looked up and saw him. "Percy!" She let go of her husband and instead wrapped her arms around her son, sobbing with relief. Ginny and her brothers looked distinctly less happy to see him, although they refrained from protesting.

"Dad," Bill asked, "what happened? Should we think about heading out there? Professor McGonagall said there was no need, but..."

"No," said Mr. Weasley. "The ministry didn't just get destroyed, it got Vanished. Someone smuggled in something that exploded, and we were all told to evacuate, so of course we did." He sank down in a chair. "When we got out, there were Death Eaters waiting for us. We tried to fight, but there was so much smoke, and they were all Disillusioned. You-Know-Who was there too, and a bunch of Dementors. Once You-Know-Who got close enough, he Vanished the whole thing. I've never seen anything like it."

"So the entire Ministry's gone?" asked Fred.

"I don't know," replied Mr. Weasley. "As much as we could find, anyway. The entire city block collapsed – but I think the Muggles are going to have to come up with their own explanation. Most of the Ministry didn't get out. I wouldn't have, except Percy left his job and found me as soon as the explosion hit. He told me to get out right away."

All eyes turned to Percy, who blushed and stared at the floor.

"The wards didn't activate?" asked Bill.

"No," Mr. Weasley answered, "and no one knows why. We probably never will. All we know is that the Ministry of Magic is reduced to twenty people, and the most high-ranking is Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"The Minister didn't leave?" asked Ron. "I thought for sure he'd save himself."

"The Minister was caught in the explosion," said Percy, speaking for the first time. "He died before Voldemort had a chance to do anything himself."

Harry closed his eyes. He hadn't liked Rufus Scrimgeour, but he had respected him as a far better Minister than Cornelius Fudge had been.

"What happens now?" asked George.

"Well, I've been wondering about that," replied Arthur.

"Kingsley didn't want to bring all the survivors to Hogwarts, so he's taking them to a secondary office in Wales for now. He'll sort through it there. We have to get back – we just came to tell you lot what was going on. Hopefully it won't take too long. We should be back here tomorrow or the day after."

"But in the meantime, who's running things?" asked Fred.

"As far as Shacklebolt's concerned, we are."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Eventually, Hogwarts became the last stronghold for everyone who was interested in helping to fight Voldemort – which became the primary duty of the remainder of the Ministy of Magic. Voldemort had picked a good day, by his own point of view. The full Wizengamot had been in session, and several members of the Internation Confederation of Warlocks had been taking a tour of the Department of Mysteries.

The next day, several members of the Order returned to the site of the former Ministy under cover of darkness and completely Disillusioned. Harry, Ron, and Hermione went with them, and they brought Neville along too. Neville stayed near them, working in silence and not looking at Hermione. The group Levitated the chunks of concrete out of the hole, looking for anything useful that might have survived. In the end, all that was recovered was the arch from the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. It was decided to move the arch to Hogwarts, where it was hidden behind a conclealment charm in a clasroom that had not been used for centuries.

Neville began to seek out their company more and more as the weeks went on. While he wouldn't speak directly to Hermione, he was civil to Harry and Ron. Hogwarts was getting busier and busier with people from the Ministry running around. Dementor and Death Eater attacks were increasing, and most of the Wizarding World was deserted. People stayed in their homes, away from anyplace that might draw attention, and simply waited.

A week after the Ministry was destroyed, Percy apologized to Harry and the Weasley family for his actions over the past two years, in great detail and very formally. Although his family had yet to fully forgive him, they were definitely on better terms. One day in early April, Harry had eaten a late breakfast after spending the early morning training with the Aurors. It was something he had gotten used to – all seven of the remaining Aurors would get up at dawn and work on spellwork, endurance, and dueling. This practice continued for an hour and a half, and had been opened to all Order members. Harry almost always went, and usually at least three other Order members came. Sometimes one or two of the D.A. would come along and practice with them. Harry was taking what the Aurors were teaching him to the D.A. anyway, and encouraged the other students to come along for the extra practice.

Neville sat down next to him while he was practicing combining minor jinxes. He had gotten the idea from an incident at the end of fifth year, and it seemed a good way to quickly incapacitate an enemy without using up a lot of energy.

"What're you up to?" he asked.

"Just trying to combine a Bat-Bogey Hex with a Freezing Charm," Harry replied. The secret, he suspected, was combining the wand movements and the incantations, but he hadn't hit the right mix yet.

"Oh," replied Neville, "isn't that illegal?" Harry looked over at Neville, about to point out that the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement had seen him working on this and hadn't lifted a finger to stop him, when Neville said, "Oh. Right."

Come to think of it, Neville had seemed a lot more on top of things than was normal lately. "Neville," asked Harry, "can I ask you something?" He had decided not to put off concerns about his friends anymore, still feeling guilty for not realizing what was wrong with Hermione sooner.

"Sure," replied Neville.

"Do you feel, I don't know, different, now?" Harry rushed on, not wanting to bring up any anger. "I just mean, you seem a little different. You're less forgetful, your spellwork in the D.A. is about twenty times as powerful, and it seems like you've been powering through all your schoolwork since – well, since Hermione..." he trailed off uncertainly.

"I know," said Neville. "It's weird, isn't it? As angry as I am that she did what she did, she was right about one thing. I do remember things... things I didn't remember before."

"Well," said Harry, "that's good, I guess."

"I remember what happened when the Lestranges came for my parents," Neville continued. "There were a whole bunch of them... all in dark robes. The Petrified me, and then they started talking about how..." he gulped "how Voldemort told them not to kill me. Then they started talking about getting... Voldemort's key back to him, and needing my parents to tell them where he was. Then they Obliviated me, and I don't remember the rest of the night. I never remembered that before Hermione."

Harry sighed. "Every time the Dementors get close to me, I can hear Voldemort killing my parents," he told Neville. "There was a time I couldn't cast a Patronus because I was so happy just to hear their voices." He looked at Neville, and realized he could see his thoughts. He was totally focused on the memory of the night his parents had been tortured – and Harry could see the key in Bellatrix Lestrange's hand. It was dark, but in the reflecting candlelight, he could clearly see a large R engraved on the ornate key.

HPHPHPHPHP

When Neville headed for a meeting with Flitwick, Harry ran to the library and pulled out the trial records from the trials sixteen years before. He scanned through until he found the record of the arrest of "Lestrange, Bellatrix." Included in the items she had in her possession was "One key, marked with the letter 'R'".

Could it be that simple? No. Of course it couldn't. There were too many unknowns. But it did solve one problem – if the key had been Ravenclaw's Horcrux, that at least told them where it had been sixteen years before. Voldemort might not be able to track it now – the only records of where the Horcrux would have gone from Bellatrix's arrest were here at Hogwarts and in the completely vanished ministry.

Five hours of reading later, and Harry was able to determine that the items belonging to all Azkaban prisoners were stored in a warehouse near Hogsmeade, far from prying Muggle eyes. If one wanted to open the warehouse, one needed only to submit a request to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and it would be reviewed. Sometimes, things just really did get too simple.

Harry ran to the fifth floor, where the Ministry had taken over a corridor full of empty classrooms, and ran to the room where Kingsley Shacklebolt could often be found yelling at six different people at once. Today must have been a slow day – he was only yelling at four. "Mr. Shacklebolt?" Harry asked him, poking his head in. "Can you do me a favor?"

Kingsley looked up distractedly. "Sure, Harry. Just a sec." He turned back to Auror Dwalish. "And then go and tell those people in Kent to set up someplace unofficial to take their wounded, because if St. Mungo's can't take new patients, we're going to need someplace where they can take theirs. Every other area of Britain has at least one place everyone knows to go. And then tell them that next time, they don't need an Auror to clean up their messes for them – they can insist on someone who's a little less in demand! And then get some sleep!" He turned to the rest of the people in the room. "Go get some food if whatever you're here for can wait ten minutes. I'm going to take a break for at least seven, and unless You-Know-Who is barging into the castle you'd better not bug me!" He turned back to Harry. "You have one minute."

"I just need to look through the things Bellatrix Lestrange had with her when she was arrested," Harry said quickly. "I read that you're the one to talk to."

"Yeah, that's right," said Shacklebolt. "I am. Go ahead. You're supposed to have some official paperwork, but I don't have time to bother with that. Tell Percy Weasley I said to take you – he's got the time, and he knows where to go. But just you, because only two people can go in at any time." "Okay," said Harry, "thanks." He ducked out before Kingsley could get any more agitated.

HPHPHPHPHP

In the end, Ron and Hermione came along, swearing not to set foot inside the warehouse under any circumstances. The wards on the warehouse were nearly impenatrable – no one who had any items inside could enter. The building was almost foolproof.

Percy created a Portkey, and they wound up outside a large gray building in the middle of a wood.

"Here we are," Percy said as soon as they landed in a heap on the ground, rather like he was announcing a train stop. "Ron and Hermione, please wait outside. We'll be just a moment." He tapped the door with his wand once, and it opened. He and Harry stepped inside. The building seemed to go on forever. Thousands of boxes from hundreds of years of wizards lined the interior in neat piles. They seemed to be organized alphabetically.

Percy turned to Harry. "You can Apparate inside the warehouse," he said, "otherwise it would take ages to walk to "L". Harry apparated halfway down the room and began looking around. Here was a box marked "Lestrange, Bellatrix Black". He Levitated it down from the top of the pile on which it sat and tucked it under his arm. He was about to Apparate back to the door, when an idea struck him.

"Just a second," he told Percy. "I'll meet you at the door." Harry Apparated to "B" and quckly scanned the piles. It didn't take more than a minute to find the box labeled, "Black, Sirius". He Levitated the box down and carried it away.

Percy scowled at the second box, but when he saw whose name was written on it, he nodded. "I understand," he told Harry. "I promise I won't tell – probably, no one will ever notice."

He turned and opened the door. The Slicing Hex caught him across the neck, spraying blood over the ground. Percy looked startled. He turned back to Harry, blood pouring down his right side. "What's that?" he asked. Then he collapsed to the ground.

Harry stayed frozen for a moment before ducking out of the doorway. He had not gone unnoticed, but he was hidden now. The door, propped open by Percy's body, remained open, and Harry could hear Ron and Hermione's voices shouting spells outside. Harry looked around for a way to escape, but he couldn't find one. He grabbed Percy's leg and dragged him back inside the building. One look told him it was too late. Percy had been cursed twenty seconds before, but he was still, not even breathing, and his eyes were open, staring at nothing. He was dead.

Harry had no time to grieve. He cast a charm to make Percy's body light, grabbed Percy by the front of his robes, and ran outside, raising a shield as he went. He ducked behind a nearby boulder, and saw that Ron was hidden behind a tree about ten feet away. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, but the curses were coming from behind a low wall running parallel to the side of the building.

One of the attackers' curses hit the rock he was hiding behind, knocking Harry off his feet and throwing his head out into range of the attackers. He lost his grip on the boxes, and the box marked "Lestrange" flew away. Frantic, Harry grabbed his wand and shouted, "Accio!" just as his attacker cried "Avada Kedavra!" The box flew through the air, intersecting with the curse. It blew the box itself away, scattering the items inside everywhere.

Harry ducked back behind the rock, and without thinking, whispered, "Accio key!" The key landed in his palm. "Ron!" he called, "Can you see Hermione?" Ron nodded, sending a stunner at one of the attackers. "Back to Hogwarts!" Harry mouthed at Ron, who nodded again and repeated the words to someone nearby. Ron turned and vanished, Harry right behind him.

HPHPHPHPHP

A/N: I know, I've done it now. I killed a Weasley. Sorry. But not that sorry, because the odds really are against them.


	21. The Circle Unbroken

**This story does not belong to me, and if you want to pretend I think it does, you're gonna have a hard time doing that. Because I don't. I don't claim the characters either, so you're out of luck there.**

**Tough cookies.**

**For James.**

In the days after the battle, what Harry remembered most was the staring.

He remembered the look on Ron's face when he realized what had happened, just outside the gate at Hogsmeade, and the look on Hermione's face as she tried to comfort him. He remembered shock, and then numbness as the adrenaline left his body and the enormity of what he had witnessed sunk in.

It wasn't the blood, but the finality of the thing, that caught Harry so off guard. He didn't remember his parents' deaths well enough for it to really hurt him. When Sirius had died, he had simply vanished. And Harry had closed his eyes when Cedric Diggory had died.

Percy had died right in front of Harry's eyes, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He, Hermione, and the entire remaining Weasley family, including Charlie, simply sat in the common room and stared at each other, trying to wrap their minds around what had happened.

HPHPHPHPHP

Percy was buried in the graveyard at on the edge of the Hogwarts grounds that was traditionally used for all residents of Hogsmeade. His family wanted to return to Ottery St. Catchpole for the funeral, but it had been decided that that was just too dangerous.

The attackers had not been Death Eaters, but a few local wizards who were afraid that the four who visited the local shed were there at the request of Voldemort. They had attacked in what they believed was a defense of Ministry property. Kingsley Shacklebolt was holding them in the dungeon where Snape had once taught Potions, and they had pleaded guilty to the murder of Percy Weasley and the attack on Harry, Ron, and Hermione. When the war was over, they would be sent to Azkaban for life.

The little old man who had performed Dumbledore's funeral and Bill's wedding had died in a Death Eater attack the month before, so Percy's funeral was presided over by Professor McGonagall, who had once been his Head of House. She stood before the assembled Order members and Ministtry employees and began to speak.

"We are here today to honor one of our own, fallen before his time. Percy Ignatius Weasley was a fine student, a loving son, and a devoted employee of the Ministry. Although his time among us was brief, he made an impact on each of our lives that will never be forgotten."

Harry was seated between Ron and Ginny in the front row of the assembled crowd. Mrs Weasley, on Ginny's other side, was sobbing into her husband's shoulder. Harry was trying hard to find one memory of Percy he could really enjoy, but it all seemed to be negative – except Percy's last words. "No one will ever notice."

Finally, it seemed that Percy had understood that some rules were just stupid. And just when he'd finally gotten it, he was dead.

"This death reminds us all that while there are great dangers in this world that we know exist, the even greater danger often takes us by surprise. The fact that the wizards who took this young man from us were not allied with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named but were acting, they felt, to protect us all from that same menace, shows us how far we truly have to go."

She turned to the coffin resting next to her. "Percy," she said, "I thank you for your service, and for your loyalty. You were a wonderful specimen of wizardkind."

HPHPHPHPHP

Following the funeral, Ron and Ginny were very subdued. Every once in a while, Ron would bring up Percy, but mostly they reverted to how it had been before Percy had returned – not talking about him at all.

At first, the four of them would just sit, staring at the wall in the common room and watching nothing. The shock of what had happened was so startling that they were at a loss for words. In the blink of an eye, the whole world had changed, and it took some time to get used to that idea.

As time went by, they gradually learned to stop staring for a bit. And then a bit more. After a month, while it wasn't quite the same as before, the four of them seemed to have fallen back into the camaraderie that had been so lacking at first.

The week after the funeral, Harry and Hermione sat down and examined the key closely. It was determined that it did, in fact, bear the mark of Rowena Ravenclaw, and that it was the only surviving item to bear her mark. Since it had come from a Death Eater, Harry was sure that the key was either a Horcrux or had been intended to be a Horcrux. Whatever had been true, the key was empty of soul now. Being hit by an Avada Kedavra curse was enough to rid the key of whatever fragment of soul it might have once possessed.

HPHPHPHPHP

The Order was losing the war, and they all knew it. Whenever the Death Eaters attacked, more and more people were killed or Kissed. The population of Britain was leaving in waves, and overseas attacks had become common. It seemed that nowhere was safe anymore.

Daily, now, Harry found himself leaving Hogwarts to help fight the battles. Sometimes he was in actual battle, fighting Dementors and Death Eaters. Sometimes it was more of a cleanup operation. The Infirmary at Hogwarts was always full, and Hermione was often found in one of the classrooms, brewing constant healing potions. The Death Eaters had not tried to attack Hogwarts for some reason, but it was about the only place that had never seen an attack. Kingsley was using word of mouth to encourage people to build their own shelters and ward them against intrusion by the Death Eaters, so that they would at least be safe.

Neville was often with them when something happened. He had joined the Order and was now almost completely absorbed by the fight against Voldemort. Harry was glad to see how far Neville had come from the boy he had been. It was heartening to see how well Neville was doing now if one could only forget the reason for it.

HPHPHPHPHP

In mid-May, a group of Dementors attacked Diagon Alley, near Fred and George's shop. The Order Flooed into the shop, which was in complete chaos. The Dementors were quickly followed by a wave of Death Eaters, and they began firing Avada Kedavras indiscriminately.

Harry and Neville ended up pinned behind the counter in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Luckily for Fred and George, they had gotten most of the merchandise out of the store and were back to running a mail-order business. Only a few prototypes had been left behind.

Harry was wondering if there was anything that he could use for a distraction, because there were about twenty Death Eaters in the shop. "Neville," he whispered, "can you see anything usable on that side?" Everything on his side was boxes reading things like, "Exploding powder" and "Random curses". Not exactly stuff he wanted to play with right now.

Neville glanced around him. "Just a box of hourglasses," he told Harry. "Nothing helpful."

Harry sighed. Perfect.

The Death Eaters were crouched behind several rows of shelves on the other end of the store. Harry needed something to distract them from the fact that he and Neville were going to duck into the Floo in the back room. He frowned, then raised his wand and tried a tricky maneuver that he had learned from an Auror the week before.

The shelf the Death Eaters were hiding behind folded itself over, exposing several of their heads. Harry fired off a quick series of Stunners, and Neville joined him. One by one, the Death Eaters keeled over and slumped to the floor.

Harry knew that would only work once. The spells being sent their way were now coming form much nearer the floor, but now they were only outnumbered fourteen to two instead of twenty.

He didn't feel close enough to Vanish the shelves, but he was desperate enough for a diversion to start throwing pencils at the Death Eaters. When the first one landed, there was a slight pause in the spells, during which one of them actually tried to duck and cover, jumping into the aisle.

"_Stupefy_!" cried Neville. Thirteen left.

Harry chucked a box of paper clips. This wouldn't work forever, but it might work twice. Another Death Eater – who Harry was sure was related to Goyle – skittered backward in terror. Twelve.

Harry cautiously opened the box of explosives. Little black balls were inside. Praying that they wouldn't destroy the whole store, Harry chucked one at another shelf. The small explosion toppled the shelf, pinning the Death Eaters behind it to the ground.

Seven left.

Neville got into it as well, and soon all the Death Eaters were incapacitated in some way. Just when they cautiously stood to make a run for it, Draco Malfoy entered the store.

Harry had not seen Malfoy in some time. He was thinner, and, if possible, even paler than Harry remembered him. And while Malfoy had once been a dead ringer for a Death Eater, Harry was sure, from the dead look in his eyes, that now he was regretting that decision.

Malfoy grinned. "Potter."

Harry gulped. This could not end well. Neither he nor Neville had their wands raised, and Malfoy's was pointed straight at them. _Stupid!_

"Put your wands down," said Malfoy, "and come out here."

Harry and Neville threw to the side and began to walk out from behind the counter. Just as he was about to move out from behind it, however, Harry dropped the last little ball in his hand and tackled Neville to the ground. The explosion destroyed the counter, and it knocked Malfoy off his feet. Grabbing their wands, the boys ducked into the back room and were almost to the Floo before they heard screaming from the front room.

Cursing, Harry and Neville ran back into the front room in time to see Malfoy falling into a swirling black whirlpool that had appeared in midair. Neville, who was closer, jumped forward, trying to grab Malfoy's hand, but he missed, and was pulled into the whirlpool as well. Harry also sprang forward, but he was just a second too late. Before his hand could close on Neville's, the whirlpool seemed to swallow itself.

Mr. Weasley arrived with George about two seconds later. "What happened here?" he asked Harry.

Harry turned to George. "What was behind the counter that would have made a whirlpool if it blew up?" he asked.

George frowned. "We just had the explosives!" he said. "Oh, and the prototype time-turners, but they didn't work."

Harry fought to stay upright. The hourglasses weren't hourglasses at all. Time-Turners.

HPHPHPHPHP

The return to Hogwarts was very subdued. As soon as possible, Harry ran to Professor McGonagall's office, where he was hoping to corner her and demand that she do something to rescue Neville, but she wasn't there. Instead, he found the stone gargoyle open again, and he rode the staircase up in silence.

Inside the office, the portrait of Dumbledore was looking at him appraisingly.

"Harry," he asked, "what has happened?"

Harry scowled. "Neville's gone!" he yelled, "He fell into some whirlpool that appeared right where I blew up a bunch of Time-Turners and he's just gone!"

Dumbledore closed his eyes. "Harry," he said after a moment, "I am sorry to hear that. Neville was a brave and talented wizard."

"What do you mean, _was_?" asked Harry. "There has to be a way to get him back!"

"Oh," said Dumbledore's portrait, "I'm sure there is. But, Harry, in order to do that, one would need to know when he is. And there is no way. Neville could have been taken to any time, and unless he finds a way to let us know when he is, we will never be able to get him back."

"That's not good enough!" Harry was furious. He couldn't abandon Neville, he just couldn't...

"Harry," said the portrait, "I know that I'm not exactly what I was, but if you trusted me before I died, trust me now. Some things that are reversible should not be reversed."

Harry met the portrait's eyes for a moment before stomping off out of the office.


	22. The Battle

**This is it, folks. The final battle. My version of such, using J.K's characters, because it wouldn't be any fun without them.**

**There are a few people I'd like to thank for allowing me to get this far, since I'm here. Thanks to Mom, Dad, and Grandma for their constant encouragement (sometimes overencouragement, but that's not important now). Thanks also to the many friends, family, and children of coworkers who have been so helpful in reading this story and commenting on what you found good or bad. Thanks to Ian and Allie for telling me when I'm being stupid about the whole thing, and thanks especially to the authors of Fan Fiction I so greatly admire, without whom I never would have had the courage to tell my own story, especially Melindaleo and cts.**

No one in the Order had much time to worry about the fates of Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy. They were too busy trying to keep the wizarding world from falling apart. Attacks daily, constantly trying to heal sick or injured people, caring for the people who had been Kissed, and the pressures of living under the thumb of Voldemort were wearing on the Order rapidly. Harry was determined to end the whole thing once and for all.

He had been preparing his strategy for quite some time, and felt sure that he could pull it off. All he needed now was Voldemort, and to his great surprise, that was exactly what he got the very next week.

An army of Death Eaters appeared in front of the castle at seven in the morning that Sunday. They marched on the gates, and only the barking from Hagrid's three-headed dog, Fluffy, alerted the castle. As the Order, the D.A, and most of the inhabitants who were capable prepared to defend the school, Harry felt a strange calm drift over him.

Fluffy's barking suddenly stopped.

He could just tell that this was it.

He carefully climbed the stairs to his dormitory while Ron was organizing the students who remained in the school to fight. Unnoticed, he slipped under his bed, and pulled out the box he had retrieved of Sirius' things.

The box had contained Sirius' wand, a few Galleons, and a tattered photograph. The picture seemed to be of the Marauders – except Peter Pettigrew had walked out of it. Harry's father and his father's friends waved at him from the picture, smiling and wrestling with each other.

"This is it," whispered Harry. "I'll try to make you proud."

Harry set the picture on his pillow and stared at it for a minute, then turned and left the dormitory.

HPHPHPHPHP

He walked out of the school almost in a daze. The battle was already raging, but he didn't feel guilty for his lateness. The Order was putting up a hard fight, but he had more important things to do.

Harry could see that Hagrid was lying next to Fluffy's still body near the gate, but he had no time to grieve. He simply continued forward, joining the loose line of Order members who were fighting in front of the school.

He could see Lupin down the line, battling with Peter Pettigrew, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that Lupin would win. Sometimes it was just meant to be.

To his right, Ron and Hermione were fighting with several hooded Death Eaters, but they appeared to be winning. And in front of him was his target.

Voldemort was looking at something to his side, and had not yet seen Harry. Harry preferred it that way. He began walking toward Voldemort, picking his way through the battle.

Suddenly, he heard someone cry "_Avada Kedavra!"_ behind him. He stopped and turned, astounded at what he saw.

Fenrir Greyback was crumpling to the ground, the predatory gleam already gone from his eyes. And behind him, holding a wand, was Peter Pettigrew.

Pettigrew and Harry shared a look, and suddenly there was another cry of, "_Avada Kedavra_!" and Pettigrew, too, crumpled. Remus Lupin and Harry stared at each other for a minute, and Remus took in the body of Fenrir Greyback before nodding to Harry and turning back to the battle.

Harry turned back to Voldemort, who was now focused on the battle behind him. He made it to within ten feet before Voldemort turned and saw Harry standing there, looking him straight in the eyes.

Harry knew one thing and one thing only. Neither of them would come out of this alive.

A/N: I know you wanted something longer, but trust me, this is the best pause point for a while. The next chapter has been posted at the same time as this one. Because I'm nice that way.


	23. Missing Pieces

**The characters aren't mine. Yes, I used quotes from the books. Let's get to the good stuff.**

In the town of Godric's Hollow, Harry had known that it wouldn't end well.

_Deep down, he knew, he had hoped that by coming here he would be able to unlock the answers to questions he hadn't even thought to ask yet. He wanted to solve all the mysteries of the universe, or at least have his parents solve them all for him._

_But instead all there was was a big rock with some words carved on it. It was almost funny._

_Once again, instead of finding solace, he found nothing. It was really quite depressing._

"_We'll give you some time," said Remus. Harry could hear the others walk away. Not even Ron protested._

_Harry sat down in front of the grave. Just then, he noticed, for the first time, what was carved at the top of the massive headstone: a pair of antlers cradling a lily._

"_Mum?" he whispered. "Dad? I don't know what I'm doing here. It's not like there's anything here but a big rock. I just... I kept thinking that maybe there'd be some help for me, here. Like maybe you could fix this._

"_I know that's stupid. You can't fix anything. I'll just have to do it myself, I guess. I just wish..."_

_Harry never had the time to tell his parents what he wished, because that was the precise moment a brightly colored brochure was blown by a freak gust of wind into the antlers cradling the lily. He reached out and picked up the brochure, hesitantly._

_It was the kid of thing that would be given to tourists – a brochure full of wizard pictures of Godric's Hollow. And there, on the second page, was the line, "Godric's Lane is especially interesting to visitors interestd in history – only those who are confirmed to be descendants of Godric Gryffindor himself may live there."_

_Harry was struck by the thought that his had been the only house on the entire street, as far as he could see._

It wasn't until they had returned to Hogwarts that Harry realized that he should have thought of it sooner. He had been reading that clue about Gryffindor's possessions being so greater than any one thing when he realized that Dumbledore had tried to tell him all the way back in his second year.

"_If you want proof, Harry, that you belong in Gryffindor, I suggest you look more closely at _this._"_

_Dumbledore reached across McGonagall's desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword, and handed it to Harry. Dully, Hary turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then he saw the name engraved just below the hilt._

_Godric Gryffindor._

"_Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled _that_ out of the hat, Harry."_

Voldemort had held a clue too, when he tried to steal the Philosopher's stone.

"_Your mother needn't have died. She was trying to protect you."_

Harry had been forced to wonder why it was that Voldemort was so adamant about killing _him_ in the first place, and not Neville. Of course, some of it was so obvious he wondered why Dumbledore hadn't thought of it himself.

"_You can speak Parseltongue, Harry, because Lord Voldemort – who _is_ the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin – can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar."_

When Nagini was killed in the battle, Harry realized that Voldemort would never have sent a Horcrux into a battle. That meant that there was still one more Horcrux out there.

Research into his own ancestry in the library after Susan Bones had talked to him about genealogy had revealed that not only was he a descendant of Godric Gryffindor, he was the last descendant of Godric Gryffindor that could be proven. Harry realized at that point what the book meant about Gryffindor's possessions – the only thing left was his family. Harry. When he had told Dumbledore's portrait that three Horcruxes still remained, he had already known – there was no way that this was going to turn out well for him.

"_Just wondering," replied Harry. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the letter in Ron's hand._

"_It's just a brochure. McGonagall gave it to me. It's about coaching Quidditch."_

"_That would be perfect for you after graduation. You should go for it, mate."_

_Ron looked doubtful. "What about being Aurors?"_

_Harry shrugged. He would never survive the end of the war, and he knew that if he wasn't going to be an Auror, Ron wouldn't be an Auror. "You should do what you want, Ron. This war won't go on forever, and then...won't you want out of it?"_

"_How can I get out of it? It always finds us."_

"_Yeah," said Harry, thinking, _No, Ron, it always finds _me. "Still, if it stopped finding us...what would you want?"_

"_I suppose," said Ron slowly, "That I'd want to play Quidditch."_

_Harry was quite sure that Ron would remember this conversation after the war was over. He couldn't begrudge Ron his life."Then you should," said Harry._

"_What about you?" asked Ron. "Have you had a meeting with McGonagall about this yet?"_

_Harry shook his head. "It's scheduled for next week." He felt the need to change the subject, and made a mental note to cancel his meeting with McGonagall._

Harry had spent weeks reading about curses in the library before he found the information he was looking for. He knew, by then, that he couldn't work up the hate to cast the Killing Curse, but maybe he wouldn't have to. Some of his reading indicated that he could use the curse Voldemort had used on him as a baby – the _Avada Kedavra_ that had failed to kill him.

All the steps were located in a book on fighting with brother wands. It seemed that only wands that shared cores, as Harry's and Voldemorts did, could trigger old spells that had never been completed, placing the effect on both the wandholders at the same time.

The plan was to link Harry's wand with Voldemort's and then speak the incantation written in the book. When that was done, if Harry was concentrating on the spell he wanted to use, Voldemort would be forced to perform the curse again, this time completing the spell on both of them. The spell would kill both Harry and Voldemort at the same time, eradicating the last two pieces of Voldemort's soul.

Harry felt sure that Voldemort's original plan had been to kill all that remained of the Gryffindor line and use one of their deaths to make a horcrux of the other's body. Baby Harry would have been buried, and no one would ever have thought that cremating the body would have been enough to destroy the fragment of soul. It was the one thing that Voldemort had never expected.

Instead of that happening, however, Harry had survived. And because of that fact, Voldemort was now wary of killing him.

_Harry was sitting in the library, reading the ancient tome. He was still forced to look up what seemed like every other word, but his talk with Dumbledore's portrait had calmed him somewhat, and he was making progress. Very slow progress._

_Finally, after hours of transcribing the book into something resembling modern English, Harry was left with a working translation. He read through the parchment, and for the first time paid careful attention to the incantation he would have to speak if he was going to end the war once and for all. The incantation that would save his friends, his family, but not himself._

_He had to suppress a laugh, remembering his thought when he had first arrived at Hogwarts that there was more to magic than waving your wand and saying a few funny words. The spell on the parchment in front of him made that thought particularly ironic, and Harry laughed out loud._

"_Abracadabra," he chuckled to himself._


	24. Gryffindor

**I didn't create any of this. JKR can have it all if I can just! Finish! This! Story!**

The battle raged around him, but Harry did not notice it. The only thing he could see was the monster in front of him who had once been a man. Voldemort. Tom Riddle.

His mental shields were up, and he was determined that Voldemort was unable to break into his mind. He could have no idea what Harry was planning.

It would be so easy to just run away. No one would blame him. After all, he had faced Voldemort four times. He knew just what Voldemort could do. The sane thing would definitely be to run, but that was not what Dumbledore had taught him. He would walk into the arena with his head held high, and if he lost no one would be able to say that he lacked courage. That was, after all, Gryffindor's main trait.

Voldemort raised his wand and prepared to speak an incantation. Probably the Killing Curse. After all, Voldemort had probably had enough of Harry. But Harry wasn't quite done with Voldemort.

"Tom," he said, remembering Dumbledore's refusal to use Voldemort's chosen name, "did you ever think to ask _me_ what the rest of that prophecy said? I think it might interest you."

Voldemort's face registered shock, but it was quickly hidden. "That Muggle-loving fool would never have told you," he said. "You were to be _protected, _and _coddled_."

"No," said Harry, "he told me. The prophecy says that you have to _mark me as your equal_. Well, not me. You had to choose between me and Neville."

"I planned to kill you both," replied Voldemort, who was now squinting with concentration, trying to peer into Harry's mind. "You were just the first one I got to."

Harry decided to let Voldemort in on some of what he knew.

"The diary was destroyed first. But then, you knew about that."

The expression on Voldemort's face was one of mild panic.

"Did you know about the ring? Professor Dumbledore got that one. I don't know how."

Voldemort was now trembling. It was slight, but it was definite trembling.

"The locket... that was tricky. Did you know Regulus Black had stolen it? You didn't, did you? Don't ask me how he did it, but he did – he stole the locket, replaced it with another locket, and hid it in his own mother's house."

"You are lying," said Voldemort. "You cannot have found -"

Harry cut him off. The shields were working - Voldemort couldn't even tell if Harry was telling the truth. "Did you even bother to check the Riddle House and _see_ if the cup was still a Horcrux? Sloppy, Tom. Dumbledore would have expected better. He would have been so disappointed in you."

For a split second, Voldemort looked terrified. But then it turned to anger, and his eyes seemed to get even redder. "It cannot be true," he said.

"It can," said Harry. "It is. I didn't have to lift a finger to get the Ravenclaw key – it was hit by a stray curse."

Voldemort laughed. It was a cruel sound, as harsh as nails on a blackboard. "But you will never destroy the last one," he told Harry. "There are some things that no one can do – and you will never find it in you to stop me."

It would be easy, Harry knew, to turn away now. No one would be overly angry about it – only four living people knew anything about what Harry's role was, and only three of them would be listened to, not that they would say anything.

"You can't kill me," Harry told Voldemort. "One Killing Curse, and it would be all over for you."

Voldemort's eyes widened in fear.

HPHPHPHPHP

The world around Harry was on fire, with curses and hexes flying everywhere as the Order and the Death Eaters battled on the castle grounds. From where he stood on the hill, Harry could see Ron fighting a pair of wizards – and winning, Hermione Banishing Death Eaters into the lake, where the Giant Squid was grabbing them and holding them in the water, and Ginny, going wand to wand with none other than Rodolphus Lestrange.

As he watched the battle, it seemed that the world slowed down, until, finally, it barely moved at all. For a second, Harry thought someone was messing with time again, but he knew it was all him. Somehow, he was thinking faster than he ever had before.

Voldemort was raising his wand, but Harry was quicker. He snapped his wand up, and at the same time they each spoke an incantation. Voldemort's "Stupefy!" and Harry's "Langlock!" met in mid air, and, as they had three years before, they created a golden line between the two wands.

Harry was about to speak the spell that would effectively end his life.

In his mind, he played over all the good times that he had had. He could see, as if in a haze, the first time he had met Ron on the train to Hogwarts, the first time he had met Hermione, the first time he had met all the Weasleys. His family.

He recalled the joy he had felt when a mountain troll collapsed in the girls' bathroom in his first year, and that Christmas when he got his first real present. His parents waved at him from inside a mirror, and he was rescued from the Dursleys by Ron in a flying car in the dead of night. Pixies were set loose in his classroom and Dobby smiled at Harry, holding a slimy sock. Harry remembered his first ever birthday card, the discovery that Sirius was innocent, and the Quidditch World Cup.

Sirius was singing Christmas carols at Grimmauld Place. Harry had his first real birthday party. He and Ginny bonded in the summer, playing Quidditch and joking around. Dumbldore's visit to the Dursleys the year before played out in perfect detail, enchanted glasses of mead and all. Suddenly, he was kissing Ginny in the common room, and they were walking around the lake.

Harry had never realized before this moment how much he remembered of those days just before Dumbledore died, when he and Ginny had been together. What he had told her by the broom shed had been true – he did love her, and he would give anything to tell her one more time. He would let Voldemort live, just to have the chance for one more birthday like the last one had been, or even, he admitted, to live his life a bit. Was it so crazy to want to have the things that his parents had never had a chance to have? All Harry wanted right then was his future.

He hesitated to speak the word that would end it all.

And then it occurred to him that Cedric Diggory had never had a future. And then Dumbledore's words from after Cedric's death came back to him:

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort."

Too many people had strayed across Voldemort's path already. Without Voldemort, Dumbledore would still be there. If Voldemort had never come to power, all the witches and wizards and muggles who had died in this war would be alive. If Voldemort had never existed, or if his life had been just a little different, Harry wouldn't have had a reason to go to the Ministry the day Sirius died, and Sirius would never have had to follow him. Cedric would be alive, and so would Bertha Jorkins. Sirius never would have gone to Azkaban in the first place. Peter Pettigrew would never have betrayed his friends. Ginny would have been spared the whole ordeal in the Chamber. And Harry's parents would still be alive.

Harry couldn't change what had happened. But he could stop it from happening again. He could fix all of this, so easily, for everyone that Voldemort was planning on hurting.

One little word.

Around him, Harry could see that Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all staring at the two of them, moving toward them. Slowly

His eyes met Ginny's and for a second it seemed that he could see right into her soul. He saw her lips move, forming the words, "I love you."

It was too bad, Harry thought, that Voldemort had never known love. Maybe the whole thing could have been avoided. Harry remembered one act of selfless love that had been given to him, and he focused on that, knowing that that was the key to winning this battle.

"_Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything -"_

"_Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"_

"_No!"_

"Avada Kedavra_!"_

It was time.

"_Abracadabra,_" whispered Harry. He focused all his memory on the curse that had bound him to Voldemort for the last sixteen years.

The connection between their wands turned green, and then the world winked out.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Ginny was the first to realize what Harry was about to do. It was like a window had opened, and she could see right into his soul. There was no happy ending in store for them.

Until that point, Ginny had believed that when the battle was over, they would get back together. Maybe someday get married, and do all the things that went along with that – have a house, a family, jobs. Now, she knew, it was not going to happen.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she was sure that when she whispered, "I love you," he heard her from twenty feet away. He said something she couldn't hear, and the light connecting him to Voldemort turned blinding green, until she couldn't see either of them.

HPHPHPHPHP

The hilltop was covered with smoke, and Hermione's eyes were unable to penetrate it. She ran into the mist, screaming Harry's name, but she knew, deep down, that it was too late. How could she not have known?

It was a good ten minutes of searching the dense fog before she found the body of Voldemort – or was it? As the smoke thinned a bit, she saw the body of a handsome man, sixty or so years old, who was wearing the same robe Voldemort had been. He was clearly dead.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ron saw Hermione charge into the mist and chased after her. As he approached, he realized that it was extremely dense. Hermione had already disapeared inside, and he couldn't see her. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the mist, using a Charm he had learned during the year to slowly thin it out until it vanished.

At the edge of the mist, about where Harry had been standing, was... nothing. No Harry standing victorious, no body. Nothing at all.


	25. The Count

**Well, that's all folks.**

**Just Kidding.**

**It's not mine.**

**Let's get to the goodies.**

The Death Eaters were killed when their Dark Marks sucked the life out of them as Voldemort died. Apparently, the Dark Mark was not only a sign of one being a Death Eater, it was a way for Voldemort to cling even longer to life. The Killing Curse that killed Voldemort also killed all of his followers who had taken the Mark.

Rubeus Hagrid was killed by a combination of fifteen Killing Curses while trying to fight the Death Eaters who stormed the castle gates that Friday the thirteenth. His body was buried on the Hogwarts grounds between the Gamekeeper's hut and the Forbidden Forest, and he was awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class.

Luna Lovegood was killed by what can only be assumed to be a heliopath that was with Voldemort's army. The beast was never seen again. Luna was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, which her father will not keep in the house for fear that it is a listening device.

Dean Thomas woke up in the hospital a week after the battle. His legs were severely broken by a Bludgeoning Curse but he survived. He was awarded an Order of Merlin, Second Class.

Seamus Finnigan and Pansy Parkinson were trapped together behind a tree at the edge of the forest. They fought against several of the current and former Slytherin students, icluding Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. Crabbe and Goyle were stunned easily, but Zabini took a little more work. Both Seamus and Pansy survived with minor injuries and were awarded Orders of Merlin, Second Class.

Terry Boot disappeared from the battle and was never seen again. He is presumed dead, and has been awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class.

Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan died when they were backed into the Whomping Willow by no less than ten Death Eaters. They were awarded Order of Merlin, First Class.

Justin Finch-Fletchley rescued Dennis Creevey from an attack by Fenrir Greyback just before Greyback's demise. He was too late to save Colin, who died from his injuries on the Hogwarts Grounds. Colin and Justin both received Orders of Merlin, First Class, and Dennis received an Order of Merlin, Second Class.

Derrick Peabody, who once passed Professor Dumbledore a plate of chipolatas on Christmas Day, successfully defended Hagrid's hut from being burned down – again. He prevented the extinction of the entire race of Blast-Ended Skrewts and received an Order of Merlin, Second Class.

Dedalus Diggle was killed by the hex _Septumsempara_, and died at Hogwarts. He was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class.

Of the nineteen surviving Ministry members who were quartered at Hogwarts, twelve survived the battle. Seven were Aurors, including Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks. Tonks survived by transforming her face into a Death Eater's mask and then killing the unsuspecting Death Eaters who walked by. They were the most high-ranking survivors.

All the Hogwarts teachers survived the battle, although several of them spent a long time in the hospital wing before they were allowed to leave.

Remus Lupin survived the battle and returned to the body of Peter Pettigrew. Pettigrew was the only Death Eater whose body was returned to his family – his mother – to be buried, at Lupin's insistence. There were only three people in attendance at his funeral.

All six of the surviving Weasley children and their parents were involved in the battle. Of the eight that went in, seven returned alive. Charlie Weasley was soul sucked by a Dementor and his body died shortly afterward. He was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, and it hangs in the Burrow to this day.

HPHPHPHPHP

On a warm beach, a little boy played in the sand between his parents. His dark hair shone in the sun, and his green eyes were bright as his father patiently tried to teach him to build a sand castle. The toddler was not interested in such things, however. He was more interested in wrecking the sand castle, watching it crumble to the ground. His red-haired mother was laughing, and his father laughed too, and the little boy grinned and giggled, waving his fists in the air.

Harry Potter sat on a log and watched his fifteen-month old self chasing a crab across the sand. Whatever he had expected, it wasn't this.

"I am proud," said Dumbledore, "to see how far you've come."

Harry closed his eyes. So this was it. He was dead.

He turned his head and looked at the headmaster. "Professor?" he asked.

"You may call me Albus, Harry, if you wish."

Harry didn't think he could ever do that. "I can't," he said.

Dumbledore nodded sagely.

"What do I do now?" asked Harry. "Don't I have a choice?"

"A choice?" asked Sirius.

Harry looked, this time, to his right and saw his godfather as he had never seen him before. Where Sirius had been wasted, and deadened, and haunted during the brief time that he and Harry had been together, his face was fuller now, and his eyes full of laughter, just as they had been at Harry's parents' wedding. Harry looked to Dumbledore, too, saw that his hands – both of them – were healthy and flesh-colored. Dumbledore's hair was auburn again and his eyes shone blue, although he still appeared to be old.

"The choice Nick said you had," Harry told Sirius, "to stay here, or to come back..."

"No," said his mother softly, "there's no choice. Not for you."

"But..." began Harry. His mother had turned aside from the sea while he was looking at Sirius and Dumbledore and approached him while he was distracted. The closer he got, he realized that he did, indeed, have her eyes. She smiled at him, and it was like a dream he had never realized he had was materializing in front of him. To hear his mother's voice...not a memory, but the real voice...

He was on his feet, and he didn't even know it. She wrapped her arms around him, and he could feel her body shaking with sobs – or was it his? "My son," she whispered, "my grown-up son..."

Harry closed his eyes and focused on the sound of her voice, the touch of her skin. It felt so _right_, to be hugged by his mother. The only thing he had ever known, like this, was when Mrs. Weasley had hugged him, but he would never see her again, and his mother was _here..._

"Harry," said his father, "we're so proud of you."

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered. "I should have done it sooner, I shouldn't have wasted all that time..."

"Are you crazy!" cried Sirius, "of course you should have! You deserve to have a life, friends, spend some time playing Quidditch. You finished it sooner than we ever thought possible – what more could you want?"

_I want to go back._ Thought Harry. _I want to live._ But he couldn't say that. It would never happen.

"I want you to know," said his mother, who had finally let go of him and was now scrutinizing him with close precision, "that we were always watching."

"Always," said his father. "I know that doesn't mean much, that we never stopped anything from happening to you, but we never left you alone."

Somehow, Harry thought, that was a good thing. He was surrounded by his family, and the thought made him happy.

He looked up and saw that a crowd of people had gathered on the beach. People he had only seen a few times before in an enchanted mirror, and a few that he had never seen before at all. He recognized Cedric Diggory among them, and... was that Colin Creevey?

"They just want a look," said his father. "They're so proud to be related to you, or even just to have some connection to you, you should hear the bragging. Getting a little old, really."

Harry looked over to Dumbledore, and Dumbledore nodded. "I saw them before," he told his parents. "In the mirror."

"It was real," said his mother. "The mirror. That's what it's always like, around you, did you know that?"

Harry hadn't known it, but it didn't surprise him either. "I've missed you," he said. "I guess now... now we'll all have time." And even though he would rather have returned to Earth and lived his life with Ginny, seen what he could have been if he had survived, he was glad to have this chance, glad to know that he could finally know his parents, glad to know that Sirius was finally free of the demons that tortured him. He was so wrapped up in the thought that he failed to notice the look his parents shot at each other, until, finally, his father spoke up.

"Actually," he said softly, "you don't, yet."

Harry looked into his father's eyes – set in a face so similar to his own – and tried to decipher what he was hearing. "What?"

"You... you're not supposed to die, now," his father said softly. "Voldemort... so much of what he did was never meant to happen that you were never supposed to have to k... to do what you did. And it won't be allowed"

His mother reached out and touched his face. "You have to go back now," she said.

"But..." began Harry.

"Harry," said Sirius, "listen to me. I know that you don't want to be here yet. You did what you had to do to right a terrible wrong. But that's over now, and what you had to do should never have had to be done, and you get to go back and live your life."

"But..."

"We'll still be here," said his mother. She hugged him again, and kissed his cheek. "Oh, I love you, Harry."

His father hugged him next, whispering, "Don't forget it," and Harry was sure he could feel his father crying too.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," added Sirius, "I never should have let things get as bad as they did, that year."

"It's okay," replied Harry. "I shouldn't have gone to the Ministry alone." He turned to Dumbledore. "Goodbye, sir."

"Harry," replied the headmaster, "have faith – what my portrait told you about Neville was not an error. He is meant to be where he is. More than that, I will not tell you."

Harry's eyes were focused on his parents as the beach faded away.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny was looking for someplace to collect her thoughts when she wandered into a little-used wing of Hogwarts. Someplace to sit and think about Percy, and Charlie, and Harry.

Harry, who was probably dead, but no one would ever know.

It broke her heart to think of it. Losing a brother, or two, was hard enough, but to lose Harry, who she loved, was impossible.

It was just as she thought this that she heard a thump behind a door to her right. And when she opened it, she saw a body lying on the floor in front of the Arch from the Death Chamber – the body of a seventeen year old boy with black hair and green eyes.

She ran to him, and pulled him off the floor, and she could see that he was breathing. He opened his eyes and stared into hers, and whispered, "I love you too."

And it was only then that she realized that the scar that had always been on his forehead was gone.


	26. All Good Things Must Come to an End

**This is the end. My guesses about what's gonna happen to everyone. Emphasis on guess.**

Vernon Dursley became a manufacturer of a variety of tools in Europe and America. At the height of his success, a writer for a business magazine who was digging into Dursley's story picked up on him taking in his orphaned nephew. Attempts to contact the boy were completely fruitless – it was almost like he had never existed.

The resulting scandal was enough to ruin the Dursleys. They were divorced after twenty five years of marriage, and their son no longer speaks to them. Petunia returned to her maiden name and moved away to another quiet community with her friend Yvonne where she can continue to spy on her neighbors.

Dudley somehow got through law school. It is suspected that he blackmailed several of his professors. He ruined several well – liked and good hearted people from his prominent position at a famous law firm. Piers Polkiss was a coworker of his, and they frequently plotted ruinations over lunch.

Aunt Marge's Bulldogs became a successful breeding kennel known thoroughout the bulldog breeding community.

The Brazillian Boa Constrictor managed to stow away on a ship to Africa and arrived alive. It was a little sad not to have made it to Brazil, but in the end it continued to live a very happy life.

The Railview Hotel in Cokeworth became a successful chain for all of six months before it went bankrupt.

Mr. and Mrs. Mason made a fortune rebuilding the Muggle world after the Second War.

Griphook became the Head Goblin of Gringotts.

Norbert remains in a colony in Romania.

The Whomping Willow still grows on the Hogwarts grounds.

Ronan, Bane, and Magorian were admitted into the reformed Wizengamot as representatives of the Centuars. Their contributions were usually found more frustrating than anything else, but the Centuars in general are happy to be represented.

Dobby came to work at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical creatures. He assists House Elves who are being mistreated by their masters, helping them to secure new placements where they will be treated fairly.

Firenze was never allowed to return to the Centuars.

Doris Crockford moved to Italy to escape Voldemort and liked it so much that she stayed.

Tom continues to run the Leaky Cauldron. There are rumors that he is a vampire, but they have proved unfounded.

Arabella Figg and her cats survived the war without major damage. She became a teacher of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts.

Stan Shunpike now drives the Knight Bus. Ern decided to switch to a Muggle Taxi.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was buried in the Death Eaters' Cemetery in Hogsmeade. Over Harry's protests, Severus Snape was buried in Hosgmeade with the other Death Eaters. Few are seen visiting the cemetery in which the followers of Voldemort were interred. Also interred in the cemetery were Marcus Flint and Terrence Higgs, two former Hogwarts students.

Oliver Wood is the best – loved player ever to play for Puddlemere United. His fan club continued to exist even after his death.

Seamus Finnigan and Pansy Parkinson were married the year after the final battle.

Parvati and Padma Patil opened their own potion shop, selling pre-made love potions and beauty potions.

Lavender Brown became a fortune teller with her own space in Diagon Alley.

Lee Jordan became a Quidditch Commentator. He frequently mentioned Weasley's Wizard Wheezes during the matches he commentated and was often thought to be seen throwing sample products into the crowd, but that could never be proven.

Borgin and Burkes was closed by the Ministry when it was found to be selling items from Death Eaters' homes.

Cornelius Fudge was unable to find work after being ousted at the Ministry. He died poor and miserable.

Dolores Umbridge was convicted of child abuse on several counts and sent to prison. The total years of her sentence make it unlikely that she will be released within her lifetime.

Madam Rosmerta was arrested by the Ministry just after the death of Albus Dumbledore. Harry was able to have her released after the end of the war. She opened a new bar in Kent, which remains there to this day.

All the Dementors were sentenced to be killed shortly after the death of Voldemort. They were completely out of anyone's control, and not even Hermione could come up with an objection.

The Rubeus Hagrid Second War Museum is currently located in what was once a hut on the Hogwarts grounds. There is a full petting zoo behind it, but it contains few animals that anyone would like to pet. Inside the museum are, among other things, Sirus Black's motorcycle, Dedalus Diggle's hat, Luna Lovegood's Order of Merlin (which her friends retrieved from her father's house), and many other personal items belonging to the heroes of both wars.

Draco Malfoy arrived safe and sound in the middle of the fourteenth century. He was never able to return to his own time, but found he liked it better where he was anyway. He was married to a prominent wizard's family, and he and his wife inherited a home on Godric's Lane in the city of Godric's Hollow, which suited Draco very well. After all, everyone knew that living on Godric's Lane connected you to one of the oldest and most famous wizarding families in Britain.

The Fat Lady continues to guard Gryffindor Tower and it is suspected that she and Sir Cadogan are seeing each other, although this is merely rumor.

Madam Pomfrey continued to run the hospital wing at Hogwarts, although she needed a long holiday just after the war.

Sybill Trelawney had only one more accurate prediction, which she gave at the beginning of the war.

Gilderoy Lockhart eventually remembered enough to be able to live on his own, and was released from St. Mungo's.

Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris continued to prowl the Hogwarts corridors for the next sixteen years. They retired to a house in London and remained there until Mrs. Norris died six years later, at a very old age for a cat. Filch followed her within the year.

Madam Pince set the record for how long a person can put up with managing the Hogwarts library. After the war, she was called upon to restore the records of the Ministry of Magic, and she continued to do both from Hogwarts for the next sixty years.

Horace Slughorn returned to his retirement and was replaced as Potions Master by Daphne Greengrass.

Minerva McGonagall continued to be Headmistress of Hogwarts until her death. She was one of the most well-liked headmistresses on record. Her portrait eventually hung in the current Headmaster's office between Dumbledore's and Phineas Nigellus.

Filius Flitwick, as a part-goblin, was much longer-lived than his fellow teachers. After McGonagall's death, he moved on to teach at Beauxbatons for a few years. Eventually, he returned to England and worked as a Charm Caster for the Ministry when their new hiring practices allowed them to hire part-humans.

Albus Dumbledore was a name that was given to a seventeen-year-old boy that landed on a heap of junk in the mid-1800s. He was taken in by a local family and, since he refused to give his own name, they began to call him Albus. Albus's magical power was quite unlike anything anyone had seen before – by the time he took his NEWTs at the end of that year, he was capable of magic that stunned his testers.

As Albus grew up, he came to a few important decisions, including the decision to let the events he remembered from his previous life play out as he remembered them. It was nearly than a hundred years before he saw anyone he recognized, and that was the woman he remembered as his grandmother. She was eleven years old, being sorted into Gryffindor.

Albus defeated Grindelwald in 1945, just as he knew he would have to. He met Tom Riddle, and while he hoped that the outcome would be better this time, he knew deep down that it would not.

Shortly after hearing the prophecy about the two boys who might be the saviors of the wizarding world, Albus knew which boy it would be. A Death Eater attack on each of their homes forced him to try to hide both familes.

One day, Albus was checking in on the Longbottom family when Severus Snape broke through the wards around the home. Albus was watching the boy, and his mental shields were down. Snape, in that moment, read what was running through Albus' head, and while he could have turned Dumbledore in, he recognized that too much had been effected by what happened to do anything but allow things to proceed unhindered.

In order to protect the timeline, Snape became a spy for Dumbledore, and the Order of the Phoenix. He was the one who convinced Dumbledore to step up the protection on James and Lilly Potter, and on Harry.

It didn't work.

Neville Longbottom landed knee first on a junk heap about a hundred and fifty years previously, landing him with a scar on his knee that would one day be a near-perfect map of the London Underground, and breaking his nose when his head hit the ground a moment later. He grew up to discover the twelve uses of dragon's blood, do work on alchemy with none other than Nicholas Flamel, and defeat Grindelwald – under a slightly different name, of course.

Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks were married two weeks after the death of Tom Riddle. Remus eventually was able to work at the Ministry and help pass some new laws expanding the freedom of werewolves. When he was in his mid-forties, a wizard from Bulgaria who had once had an encounter with Gilderoy Lockhart came forward and said he had perfected the Homomorphus Charm. (He had actually perfected it some twenty years previously, but the memory had been erased.) Lupin was the first British wizard to make use of the charm, and, he felt, it was the best thing that ever could have happened to him.

Tonks won a toss and was named Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Under her leadership, the department was at it's most efficient. She and Lupin had two children and were very happy.

Molly Weasley was rewarded for her work with no less than twenty-five grandchildren. After the war, she and Arthur became foster parents for war orphans, and raised another six children. Harry came to stay at their house for some time after the war, but eventually moved out. The Burrow has been almost completely redone since that time, and is in far better shape, although the garden is still full of gnomes, there is still a ghoul in the attic, and Errol still collapses on delivery.

Arthur Weasley continued to rise through the Ministry to become a Department Head. He invented the Department of Muggle Relations and stayed there until his death.

Bill and Fleur moved to France, where Bill rose up through the Gringotts ranks to become the Head Liason to the Goblins. Their six children were the first children from France to attend Hogwarts and not Beauxbatons.

Percy's girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, and his parents have established a memorial to his memory at St. Mungo's where it remains to this day.

Fred and George Weasley married Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell in a double ceremony that most people are sure was just a way to drive their mother completely insane. Both were gifted with twin girls, which Molly considers the ultimate act of revenge. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is a household name, now, and the proceeds were enough for the owners to buy two entire castles – which they did.

There was a ceremony at the end of the year on the Hogwarts grounds, during which Ron and Hermione were made honorary Head Boy and Girl for the year (since those positions had never been filled during the year) and all of Dumbledore's Army was presented with their Orders of Merlin. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were given Orders of Merlin in the First Class.

Ron and Hermione went out for a drink the day after Harry returned from the dead, shared their first kiss the next week, and decided to get married by the end of that year. Ron became a Quidditch coach for the Cannons, and Hermione joined the Ministry. She started as a clerk in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical creatures, and rose to run it in a record amount of time. Under her management, the name of the department was changed to the Department of Cooperation With Magical Creatures, and all of the non-humans slowly but steadily gained rights. However, house elves still volunteer to do the work they now have a right to be paid for. Crookshanks moved into Hermione's office and spent many years curled up on her desk.

Ron's Quidditch team wins sometimes, and was recently bumped up to seventh in the league. Ron learned to live with imperfection. "After all," he was always fond of saying, "you can't have everything in life." He and Hermione had three children, all of whom were red-headed and very intelligent. Ron and Harry and their children often played on the weekends for many years.

After being checked out throughly by Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing upon his return, Harry and Ginny Apparated to the nearest Muggle village and went to the local ice cream parlor for a date. At the end of the date, she was in tears and so was he, but they still felt that it was the best thing that had ever happened to them.

They continued to date for the next two years, and actually managed to go a week without the media catching on. Ginny graduated from Hogwarts and became its' first Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher to remain at the school for more than a year.

Eventually she did leave, when Alastor Moody decided he wanted to give it a try and Ginny was offered a job at the Ministry, designing Ministry-approved curriculum. Ginny became the first official head of the brand-new Department of Magical Education.

She and Harry were married two years after the fall of Voldemort, in the garden at her parents' home. They moved to their own home just outside Ottery St. Catchpole and started a family, which eventually numbered twelve children. Harry became a Quidditch player with the Appleby Arrows. HIs team never lost a match in which he played as Seeker, since the Dementors were no longer even remotely a worry.

It would be a lie to say that Harry was left unscarred by the war. Often during his life he wished he could talk to his father, or his mother, or Sirius. Sometimes he was saddened by the fact that Cedric Diggory still would not come home, and he never gave up the hope that he would someday find out what had happened to Neville (although he never learned the truth about that). But he spent most of his time glad that his life was finally his own, and after his retirement from Quidditch, he entered the political arena.

At first, he just lent his name to various causes. Werewolf regulation was restricted, anti-Dark legislation was tightened, and great pains were taken to make sure that witches and wizards were identified younger, and contacted, especially children who were in orphananges. Harry was a very popular spokesperson for causes he believed in, and over time he became one of the Wizarding World's most respected political figures.

At the age of sixty, Harry was elected Minister of Magic, much to his surprise. He was not highly devoted to the campaign, but it seemed that most people were devoted to him. He remained Minister for an unprecedented twenty-six years, and then retired. Harry lived to a ripe old age, with his family at his side.

Although Harry's life was far from carefree, he was happy more often than not. And while he never was able to lose the fame and notoriety he had won himself by defeating Voldemort, he never again felt that he was cursed by having a scar.

**The End**


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